Blue eyes don't cry
by lochDIVA
Summary: Denmark takes drastic measures to make his family spend a little more quality time with him.
1. Telephone Talking

A/N: A huge thank you to Vevici for beta-reading my story!

* * *

><p>Hurray!<p>

For when he woke up, he could see his fingers before his face. It meant his head was still there, though slightly greasy, laying on the white pillow. His body was also still there, buried under the white sheets. The body which connected his arms to his head, making them move, grab, feel.

Denmark has come to accept that everything around him was real. Just a few moments ago he would have sworn that reality was far different from this, but turns out it was only a dream.

His apartment's interior was dominantly white. Except for the kitchen, where the furniture were silvery grey, and the red sofa in the living room. Not that Denmark had a lot of furniture in his apartment; he liked open space and minimalism.

Yet the room he was laying in was grey and the air was stale. It pinned him down on the bed in which he lay. It was so dark that even the sheets that he clutched onto seemed grey, though he knew he changed it just yesterday. The muted light and the atmosphere explained one thing; it was morning.

Denmark opened his curtains to let the misty light in his room. After a moment of thought, he also opened his balcony doors. A gust of chilly air blew into the room making goose bumps appear on his uncovered back. He leaned on the balcony railing and took a deep breath. It was far too early; it was far too quiet. The sky was cloudy, yet so bright. It was white. For a moment he felt pure, then bittersweet, then sad.

Then, again he felt guilty, he felt bad. About what, he did not know, but it haunted him so.

Denmark scrunched his nose and placed his is face in his hand. Then his telephone rang. His heart skipped a beat. It felt as if a needle pierced it.

"I shouldn't get so excited." Denmark whispered to himself.

It was Finland calling.

Denmark picked up the phone, "Hello!" he greeted.

"Hey, Mathias! You awake?" Finland's cheery voice crackled through the speaker. By the sound of it you could tell that the he was up and fresh for at least an hour now.

Denmark swallowed a small imaginary ball in his throat before replying, "Yeah, I just woke up."

"Did you call Olav yesterday?"

"No. Not yet."

"Well, call him. Hope you at least notified Berwald that you're going to Stockholm."

"Yeah I did."

Denmark slowly entered his bathroom and turned on the slightly yellowish light in the room. While still talking to Finland, he looked himself in the mirror to see his own facial expressions.

"…and what did he say?"

Denmark puckered his lips, furrowed his brows and all the while making that hideous face to his mirror, he replied, " 'U-hu' ."

"Hahahaha! How typical of him! So I guess you'll have to raid the local pubs on your own for tonight. Just call Olav. He'll accompany you. 'kay bye."

"Hee, bye."

"Oh and what's up with your voice? Cheer up! I didn't invite you just so you could whine all day. See you later!"

Denmark put his phone on the sink near the toothpaste. The sink was dry at the moment, but even if it wasn't that would hardly change Denmark's actions. Slowly his eyes went up and faced his own reflection. He looked tired. His face was slightly swollen and his eyes were irritated.

He pulled his tongue out teasingly and started mimicking to the mirror. "Whiny attitude~! Blah-blah-blah~! Heh, at least I don't need to take a bunch of antidepressants to pull a smile."

Indeed, he was smiling to himself in the mirror. He loved his face. His features were big and bright. Washing them in cold water was a delight. He flickered his long wet eyelashes against his cheeks. It tickled.

With a toothbrush in his mouth, he continued flirting with himself in the mirror. He dug his hand into his grown out hair and caught himself on the thought that it needs washing. Not now though, not while he was having so much fun playing with it. Dirt was better than hair-gel; it made the best kind of forms with his hair.

"Rawr, like a lion!"

After being done with his personal hygiene Denmark went to the kitchen, got his coffee and searched his medicine cabin for those antidepressants. He would not use them today. He just placed them on the table near the bed on which he was about to sit.

Doctors say that the increase of Denmark's population using antidepressants decreased the suicide frequency. That's why Denmark was willing to take them happy pills if it meant that somebody won't jump down the apartment building and appear laying under his window in the morning. After all, what Denmark does directly influences his people, or maybe it was the other way around.

Anyway, had to keep up with that image of the happiest country in the world.

In the world, Denmark was also known for being the second biggest consumer of antidepressants. His little brother Iceland being the first and the third being Sweden. Those statistics also mimicked the suicide rates where Iceland was doing a bit better than Denmark and Sweden was doing a bit worse. His brothers were never too far away from him in any statistics.

Norway was just one position above him in the suicide charts.

"Right. Norway."

In a flash he was in the bathroom to retrieve his phone and then in the next second he was back on his bed. He grabbed his mug from the cupboard and loudly slurped on its contents. With his phone in the other hand, he quickly dialed Norway's number.

"Hey! Olav! It's Mathias! Great to hear you! So here's the deal: me, Tino, Eduard, booze, girls and fish! So what do you think?"

Denmark became a bit red in the face from the anticipation of the answer. Or maybe it was just the steam from the coffee.

"Uh? What are you talking about, you numbskull?" Norway grunted in reply.

"A fishing trip in Finland. Today. The ferry comes somewhere past midnight though."

A few seconds of dead silence passed.

"Olav?"

"W-wait. Why ferry? Why not take a plane?"

"Oh that. I just want to take my car with me. I'm going by car to Stockholm and then by ferry to Helsinki."

"Right… You know. You should just ride your bike to Helsinki. With the way you paddle, it will be a whole lot faster."

"Hahaha! You flatter me. But yes, I am taking my bike with me as well."

"Does Sweden know you're coming?"

"Yes."

"Didn't tell me anything about it… Nevermind. I can't."

"Aw, come on! I know you love fish."

Norway made a voice that was close to possessed. "More than you will ever know…"

"Ahahahaha, oh my god, you sicko! Ah, brings a tear to my eye. So, why can't you come, especially when I have such an ace to tempt you with?"

"Oh shut up, you got nothing on me. I can't come because I've already planned to go to a rock fest at Gothenburg. Should have called me earlier. But I don't think that would have changed anything."

"Oh."

"Sweden is performing."

"Oh! Really now?"

"Yeah. In a warm up band…"

"Oh, okay. Cool... Wait. So he's not even in Stockholm this evening." Denmark rubbed the back of his neck, "Explains why he didn't care that I'm coming. Rude. Could have told me."

Both of them became quiet. There was nothing really to talk about anymore. This is the part were you say goodbye.

"You know. You can visit us on your way… If you want to."

"Is that an invitation?" – Denmark's voice sounded like a little kid's on Christmas Eve.

"Pfft! A suggestion."

"Oh okay. I'll try to stop by. Just don't tell Sweden I'll be there. Let's make it a surprise."

"U-hu." That couldn't sound more apathetic. And darn! He sounded just like Sweden.

"So see you, I guess. Got to get packing."

"Goodbye."

"Bye…" Like almost a whisper. But it took the breath out of his lungs; it hurt to know that his little baby brother probably didn't think of Denmark as his brother at all. Norway was better off spending time with Sweden than with Denmark. But what hurt him most was how coldly Norway said goodbye.

Hearing that felt like Denmark was about to be buried alive.


	2. Surprise Suicide

"Ah, Gothenburg."

The destination Denmark's GPS was set on. But what is there in a name? This particular name reminded him of a woman he once knew in his childhood days. Her name was Geatland. The closest thing he had to a mother. She was a brute, but an open-hearted woman she was, much like Denmark himself. He used to be her favourite, but to Sweden and Norway she was never a close relative. To them she was a witch, an evil stepmother.

Maybe that's why Denmark's brothers were sometimes cold to him, because he reminded them of her.

An hour or two passed since Denmark, or Mathias, as the humans call him, left the house. They sky didn't clear since. On the contrary, it started raining a bit. Denmark turned on the heater in his car. Autumn was here. Sometimes Denmark wished he had a coffee machine in his car, but for now, all he could do was just cuddle deeper in his new red sweater, hiding his nose in the soft collar.

"Come on now. Move!"

Denmark impatiently tapped his fingers on the wheel. The traffic was a bit slower when entering Sweden, because unlike on the Danish side, the Swedish did a random customs check.

That was the difference between the two sides of this bridge. Sweden got away with having a little border control, while when Denmark tried to do the same he got accused of sabotaging the Schengen treaty.

Denmark's turn finally came, he paid at the toll booth and he was off. Now all it would take was approximately three hours, one pit stop to rest and replaying one of his favourite CD's over and over again.

How many electric windmills he passed, he did not know. The only thing he knew was that he was the one that invented them and that made him feel at home.

Upon arriving in Gothenburg, Denmark found himself with the dilemma of where to park. He never had this kind of problem back home, because he moved mostly by bicycle. It didn't need fuel or space, plus it was keeping him in shape. The only problem he ever faced concerning his bike was finding it among a pile of other ones, parked in the center of Copenhagen.

Now was the right time to call Norway and actually find out where the festival is held at.

"Hey! Olav! Where are you at?"

"Mathias? Are you already inside?"

"Inside what? Ah! No. I've just arrived in Gothenburg. So where is the festival?"

"You know the park in the center?"

"Slottsskogen? You got to be kidding me, where am I supposed to park there?"

"Go figure. Berwald's band started, got to go."

After being so impolitely disconnected, Denmark just sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel.

"Eh, this is going to be nerve wrecking."

In the end, Denmark didn't even get near the park. The parking spots were full for about a kilometer ahead. When he finally found himself a place, it turned out he would have to take a long stroll to the park. But he didn't mind that, he was just happy to finally get out of the car and to stretch his cramped muscles. He had to admit that it was a whole lot sunnier in Gothenburg. He even considered leaving his new red sweater behind, but decided it was already thin enough.

Plus, he just had to show it off to Sweden.

Denmark's solution to get as fast as possible to the park was to take his old pal cycle for a spin. But he figured it still wasn't fast enough, because soon enough something started vibrating in his pocket. Being an experienced cyclist, it wasn't a big problem for him to get his phone out of his pants and talk while paddling.

"Hyellow~!"

"Where are you? Sweden is performing his last song."

"Sorry, I had problems with parking. But I'm already near the entrance. I'm going to buy a ticket now."

"Okay. Near the small stage. Bye."

* * *

><p>Shortly after ending his call, Norway got back into the mosh pit, if you could call it that. It was quite a small crowd actually. Sweden's band, whatever it was called, wasn't very well known, that's why it was a warm up band in the first place. Being a country didn't give you the luxury of becoming a celebrity. You had to stay low as to not get people interested in you and finding out you don't really age. Still, it didn't stop you from trying to pose as a normal rocking twenty two year old.<p>

"Thank you! You've been a great audience!" Cried the frontman of the band into the microphone.

The small audience cheered and whistled. It seemed that Norway was the only one who was not amused. His head was turned in a completely different direction from the stage and his eyes jumped from left to right, searching for someone.

"It's a beautiful day for us to perform at this festival, but also a sad one."

The crowd went 'aw'.

"Yes. It's a black day in the history of our band, because a very dear member of ours is leaving. Berwald! Come forward!"

The crowd roared with excitement. You could see that Berwald was popular amongst the female fans and that was the dangerous part. Fangirls would definitely find out the details of Sweden's inhuman life sooner or later.

Sweden came up to the vocalist and was pulled into a tight headlock, it made him hunch in a strange way because he was taller. It looked like he didn't mind though.

"So tell us Berwald. You were given a beautiful singing voice and the things you do with the bass gives me wet dreams. What makes you leave the music world."

"'ts c'mplicated."

The vocalist looked confused at the crowd, as if they knew the explanation of what Sweden has just said. The crowd just laughed in reply.

"Well. Then what are you going to do for a living after?"

"Oh n'thing. Probably become a f'sherman like my dad always dreamed of."

Everybody laughed, but Norway bet he was the one who got this joke the best.

The vocalist finally let go of Sweden's head.

"Haha! Berwald. I got you a little goodbye present. Wait here."

The vocalist went backstage for a split second and was back with a black ribbon, which he pulled over Berwald's head. The ribbon read R.I.P.

"Berwald. You will always be with us. Now. Let us pray."

The band members went quite for a moment and lowered their heads. All except for Sweden, who already went backstage to pack his guitar.

It was over.

Norway had a VIP pass, he decided it was just the right time to use it. He and Sweden met up and set their hearts on having lunch. They were heading towards the food stalls, when that same obnoxious vocalist caught up with them.

"Hey! Berwald! Wait! Is this your half-bro you were talking about?"

But before Norway could introduce himself properly, they all heard a wild scream coming from above.

"BERWALD!"

It was coming from a small booth that was lifted high above the ground by a hoisting crane. The man in the booth jumped down.

* * *

><p>Sweden looked like he was having a heart attack. Though what was the reason for his soon to be graying hair, he was unsure. The fact that the man was Denmark or the fact that Denmark was suicidal.<p>

The rubber rope that was tied to Denmark's legs made him bounce back up, then down, then back up again.

"Is that also your brother? Is he your full brother then?"

Sweden probably broke the Guinness world record at dramatic slow motion. That's how unhurriedly he turned to his ex band member and nearly spat out the words, "D's he look like my full br'ther?"

No one answered him.

When they got Denmark down, he was shaking from head to toe and couldn't stand on his two feet. He literally fell on Sweden's chest.

"I couldn't find you guys and Norway wouldn't pick up his phone, so I decided to take a better look from up there." Denmark pointed to the sky with his eyes.

Sweden gently pushed the Dane away from himself, but grabbed him by the wrists, so as to not let the guy rock himself astray. Denmark's face was bright red from the blood that rushed to his head while he was hanging upside down and his eyes were also kind of wet. But that's not what annoyed Sweden about Denmark's face. It was the smug look he was giving him. He looked like a fox that just ate the fattest chicken in his life.

"Wh't are you doing h're?" He asked bluntly.

"Oh… Just passing by."


	3. Plastic People

"Cheers!"

An instant sound of crackling plastic cups followed the loud proclamation of celebration.

The sweet scent of grilled meat and the laughter of the intoxicated was filling the air. Denmark enjoyed every second of it, especially when he had his two brothers by his side… Well and a friend of Sweden's called Hans. They were all sitting in a giant cafeteria-like tent. On one side of the table there was Denmark with Norway and on the other Hans with Sweden.

Hans. He was a swell chap. He was talented, knew how to flirt with the crowd and his appearance was very goofily adorable. His wild brown curls and big ears gave him a resemblance to a bear, and not that wild forest beast, more of a teddy bear.

Their cheap plastic cups were large - all the better for the rock fest, but Denmark couldn't help but to frown when Sweden tried finishing his cup off in one go.

"Hey! Don't let yourself get drunk just now big guy or it will be your beddy-bye time soon."

Denmark covered his mouth from Sweden's view with his hand and in a not so quiet voice said to Hans, "He just can't hold his liquor…!"

"Broke my c'p." Sweden made it clear to everyone that his sudden thirst was stimulated by the crack that appeared in his cup. He just didn't want the beer go to waste, that's all.

"Well if you wouldn't hold it so tight, then maybe it would not crack. Loosen up man! We're all friends here! Right Hans?"

"Right, right… So tell me. Do you three all share the same father or… How did you come to be?"

"Berwald and Olav share the same father and I and Berwald share the same mother."

Hans entwined his fingers and placed his chin on them. His eyes were sparkling. "That's kinda strange and… Fascinating! It's like all the Scandinavian countries were united in your family!"

Oh the irony of it all, but how swiftly Denmark lied. Sweden and Norway couldn't help but to exchange a glance every time Denmark miraculously screwed up their biographies. In reality, no one knew if they really ever had a parent. That's how it was with all countries. They were never born, in the biological sense of the word, they just appeared.

"So you and Olav don't share anyone?"

"What do you mean?" Denmark gave the most disapproving look one ever did see. "We share Berwald!" Denmark leaned in to hug Norway's head, but was rather roughly shoved off by his younger friend. This resulted in Denmark spilling some beer over his good pants.

"Ai! Olav. What did you just do? You naughty boy." Denmark teasingly waved his finger in front of Norway's face.

"The boy is shy to display physical affection." Denmark explained to Hans.

That earned him an elbow in the side. He lost his balance and fell off the bench. The remaining beer spilled on his face. Denmark, still lying on the ground with his eyes closed, spitted the liquid off of his lips like human fountain.

Hans was the only one laughing with Denmark that day. Frankly speaking, the two were the only ones having a real conversation.

"Eh, those two icicles," sighed Denmark as he got up and wiped his face with his sleeve. "They got the same genes alright. But you know what?" He took a sip from Norway's cup before continuing.

Norway let it slide this time.

"I can't help but to notice how much Berwald resembles mother now that we're older."

Denmark rested his head on his hand, almost covering half of his mouth. He was looking at Sweden, rather tenderly you might say, and Sweden was starting to feel rather uncomfortable from all this silent attention he was getting.

Denmark bit his pinky and added, "It must be the eyes, yeah."

"Mathias. Yer adopted."

"Get bent."

Hans cleared his throat rather loudly and got up from the table. "So it's been really swell with you guys, but I stayed here long enough. Really got to go, my band is waiting for me. So, bye." He patted Sweden on his hunched back, which made him straighten up a bit. "Bye Berwald."

"Yeah, bye Hans."

Once Hans vanished in the crowd, Sweden turned his attention to Denmark. It was not a friendly look he was giving him, no. Somehow, the way Sweden was playing with his empty cup made him even more intimidating. Each thud of the plastic against the table made a shiver run up Denmark's spine.

He couldn't stand it. "What?" He waved his hands in different directions.

Sweden stopped playing and pointed the cup at Denmark. "How did ya get h're?"

"By car!" That was obvious.

Sweden just sighed. He turned to Norway to drill him with the same questioning look.

"I invited him."

Once attaining the information he wanted, Sweden rubbed the back of his neck, then his right eye and then readjusted his glasses. Wordlessly he stood up and started moving in an unknown direction.

"Hey, where are you going? You're not going to finish that salad?"

Norway also stood up and followed Sweden's steps.

Sweden turned to Denmark and motioned with his head to follow as well. "Ther's a good band st'rting."

"How was I supposed to know that…?" Denmark mumbled to himself, took his last bite of his grilled potato and got up.

The band they went to see was really nothing special in Denmark's mind. That didn't stop him from having a good time though. He got into the front row and was firing it up and squealing like a twelve year old girl. He did not regret it.

Most people think Denmark doesn't regret anything at all. That was untrue. He was only human… or something very close to that. Grief, guilt and regret were a part of him too. He understood that when his new sweater finally got ripped by someone's spiky accessories.

Norway caught the drumsticks that were thrown off stage, which made something very proud and golden shine in his dead eyes. Sweden was topless and sweaty, but decorated with streamers all over.

Time passes by real quickly when you're having a good time. This time it was no different. The sun was already setting. It was time for Denmark to go if he wanted to catch that ferry. Sweden and Norway accompanied him to the exit. They had bracelet tickets for two days, so they could come back to the park grounds any time they wanted.

"So! What are you guys going to do after?"

"We're going go to our hotel."

"That's all? Not going to go to some pub later on?"

Norway just shrugged his shoulders.

"Go sky dive! It's not cheap, but you won't regret it!"

Norway sniggered a bit at this, but otherwise didn't say anything.

Denmark understood that as a 'will you go already'. He took the lock off his bike he left near the entrance, placed one foot on the paddle. He was ready to set off but froze for a moment to give the guys one more goodbye stare…

"See you round then."

"Goodbye."

… and he road off into the sunset.

Goodbye. Again with the cold goodbye. Was he only that to them? An unwanted reminder of someone from the past who they tried to forget?

Denmark glanced over his shoulder, hoping they were following him with their eyes… or at least… Glancing over their shoulders like he was.

They were heading back to the park.

* * *

><p>But they were forced to turn back, whether they wanted to or not, because curiosity was stronger than them. Besides, how could one not react to a cry for help?<p>

Synchronously Sweden and Norway breathed out a simple word. "Denmark."

Turning back they saw a terribly familiar man lying on the pavement, his bike on top of him. Denmark looked rather stupid. Sweden shook his head and was about to leave, but Norway stopped him by gripping his arm. "Wait."

Denmark loudly grasped for air with a high squeamish sound coming from his lungs.

Norway framed his mouth with his hands, still holding the drumsticks in-between his fingers. "Mathias! Are you alright?"

"Ahn…! No! I think I'm not!"

He didn't get up.

Only then did they sense that something was wrong and rushed to Denmark's side.

Sweden took the bicycle off of Denmark and placed it on the grass. "He's alright. Just a scratch." He didn't like the fact that Denmark was attracting unwanted attention by his little boo-boo. One of the guards was already approaching them, probably thinking they were a bunch of drunken party-poopers.

Norway helped Denmark sit up, not without a few groans coming from the older man. Indeed, Denmark had bloody scratches on his forehead and nose.

The female guard was already facing Sweden. "Is everything alright, sir?"

"Berwald. Look at his leg," Norway gasped in horror.

One look was enough. Sweden turned to the woman and with a voice so thick you could cut it answered, "No. Call the ambulance."

One look into Sweden's eyes was enough to move the woman to action.


	4. Visiting Hours

Hurray!

For once more his eyes opened to see daylight. His pupils dilated and that which was blurry became his hands. He didn't even feel that he was holding them up in front of his face, until he saw them. When the numbness in his fingers ceased, he wiggled them and knew exactly which sensation was connected to which finger.

Taking grasp of reality had its side effects. He had the realization of why he woke up, and that was the unbearable pain in his left leg.

His eyes wondered the room he was in. There was not much to see, really, just pastel walls and a pole with a bag of liquid hanging from it.

Carefully, he started reviewing the events that happened yesterday that got him in this place. He remembered the number of manholes the ambulance ran over. A scream that belonged to him as the medics relocated his ankle. He could remember his sleepless night in the hospital and the nurse he drove crazy by calling her every single hour.

His left ear sensed someone clear his throat. He turned his head to see Norway sitting beside his bed.

Denmark smiled sheepishly, there's no other person he'd like to see right now. "Oh, hey." He tried sitting up, but it proved to be a whole lot harder than he expected. His wide open mouth, that didn't let out any sounds, gave away that he was in great pain.

Norway helped by readjusting the extra pillow under Denmark's casted leg. "So, how is it?"

Denmark's voice was dry and screechy, like a rusty door opening. "Tickles…!"

"I'm sure the nurse will check on you soon and will give you something for the leg."

"Probably. But in the meantime… Norway. Dear. Did you get that thing I asked you of?"

Norway smirked. "I did." He then revealed a package of cheap party whistlers.

Denmark's face started glowing like an electric toy Santa. "Oh my god! Give me!"

Greedily he snatched package from the younger man and started furiously unpacking it.

"This is better than New Year!"

Denmark eagerly shoved the first whistle in his mouth and without hesitation made that baby elephant sound. He repeated it over and over, until the nurse came in.

"What is going on in here? Is this a circus or a hospital?"

Once the nurse understood which patient's room she just walked into, she seemingly calmed down and with an apathetic voice said, "Oh, it's you Mister Køhler. Acting up again aren't we?"

"Hiya nurse Kristine!" Denmark waved his hand to greet the haughty nurse.

The nurse was a short girl with bleached hair. She had her hands on her hips and a bad habit of chewing her lips.

She cut a glance at Norway. "You brought these to him?"

Norway placed his hands in front of himself defensively. "I'm sorry, I just came to visit."

"Well don't feed the troll anymore, honey." Soon she was fussing by Denmark's side; she took the needle out of his vein and threw away the dried out IV bag.

"So what is this all about Mister Køhler? Is this a broken bone celebration party of some sort?"

"No, this is my alternative pain killer." He demonstrated by whistling again.

He didn't even get to blink, before the whistle was thrown in the trashcan. He didn't admit defeat thought. "I have more." He rustled the plastic bag with the remaining pink whistles and showed his teeth in a malicious grin.

"I'll get rid of those shortly after I get back. Now tell me, on the scale of one to ten, how much does your leg hurt right now."

Denmark replied to her by making his loudest whistle yet, which made her cringe and Norway cover his ears.

"I'll take that as a nine. Mister Køhler, please be quite. The patients in the rooms near you can hear you. You might be disturbing them."

Denmark decided to actually listen to her advice. When she was leaving the room, he took his mind off the pain by admiring her buttocks.

"Matt~..." Norway muttered, "A little respect for the medical staff, maybe?"

Norway's words brought Denmark back to from his fantasies. "Hn? Oh, yeah. Sure. Anything you say."

After a while Denmark was rewarded by two shots of morphine for his good behavior.

The doctor came in a minute later than the nurse. He flipped over a few papers in his hands and went on with that long boring talk about what Mister Køhler should avoid doing during the first month of his recovery. The doctor also mentioned things Denmark should buy, like a pair of new pants for starters, in replacement of the ones they cut off of him.

* * *

><p>Norway easily agreed to go shopping for Denmark.<p>

"I'll be back soon." Nearly jumping out the door, Norway shut it loudly behind himself and the doctor.

"Easy now with the door," the doctor remarked.

"I'm sorry," replied Norway rather gruffly.

"Don't worry now, you're brother will be fine."

"Oh, I know he will be fine. I just… Don't understand how this happened."

"He fell of a bicycle while being slightly intoxicated. People come to us with broken limbs which they got from taking an average walk. Human life is a fragile thing."

Norway didn't reply anything. The doctor had a point, yet still it wasn't the answer. Sure, Denmark has broken his legs before, but back then it was on the battlefield. It seems that his long life of about thousand and a half years didn't teach him anything about being careful.

Norway tried being quick about the whole shopping thing, but he came back only two hours later. When he entered the room, he didn't expect Denmark to already be up and limping on his crutches. "Hay Ole!"

The nurse that was training Denmark looked mighty proud, like she was on her only child's graduation day. "Would you look at that. All of that just because of pride." She took the bed pan and waved it around for Norway to see it was clean and empty. "At least I got him to sit while peeing."

Denmark made it clear, that… "I take no pride in peeing like a woman!"

Norway was slightly upset that Denmark was up, but not like that. He was happy Denmark was recovering. Just… The only reason he was out buying Denmark's medicine, tear-off pants, over-socks and anything else he would be asked of, was in hopes that it would keep Denmark from stressing his leg.

The nurse let Denmark have a small lunch break at the cafeteria, after that they continued Denmark's crutch-crawling lessons, only this time he was instructed to walk up and down the stairs. It was quite a funny sight, when Denmark was taught how to crawl down the stairs on his butt.

By the time they were done it was already three p.m. Sweden should show up in an hour or so. Denmark disposed of his hospital PJ' in favor of his old clothes, meaning he would have to wear that ripped smelly sweater, which was oh so appealing only yesterday.

Denmark was saving his strength by laying down, Norway was taking a closer look at those bone scans; in a nutshell, they had nothing to do, they were waiting for Sweden to arrive.

Norway put the scan back in its folder and was now looking at Denmark's leg.

"Maybe I should give you a black eye to go with it and say I beat you up. That would safe my bet."

"You bet on me?"

"With Iceland. I never thought I'd live the day you would fall off a bike."

"Haha! Ice, he never forgave me for that one time I scratched one of his cars by running my bike into it!"

"You did it on purpose?"

Denmark rolled his eyes and bit his lip. "Weeeell~, he had it coming, he didn't get out of the way."

Norway took a lock of his own hair and started twirling it around his finger. That was his thinking pose. "I still don't get how you managed to fall of your bicycle. Kind of weird. It's as if…" Norway mentally scolded himself for such thoughts. He was about to look Denmark in the eyes to apologize, but there he saw that Denmark understood what Norway was about to say. Denmark was giving him a sullen look, swallowed down and opened his mouth so slightly, as if he was about to say something.

Norway slowly stood up from the chair. His eyes widened. The left one even twitched.

It started out as a whisper, but grew into a scream. "You… IDJIT!"

With the way Norway was looking at Denmark, he could mentally squash him into the wall he was leaning on. The way Denmark's eyes were racing back and forth, as if searching for a place to hide from Norway's glare, only enraged him even more inside. Norway didn't recall the last time he was so mad at someone.

"You fell on purpose, didn't you?"

"No, Norway, I…"

"You did! You did all of this just to get attention to your lousy persona!"

"No! I didn't want to break my leg!"

"This is the most egoistical thing you did yet!" Norway turned away from Denmark and placed his forehead on the arm that he leaned on the exit door. He was trying to calm himself down at the realization.

"Fell on a flat place…?" He repeated the scenario in his head and realised that there was no way it could happen in the first place. How didn't he see this earlier? He was too caught up with actually caring for his brother's well-being.

"Please. Please, don't tell Sweden."

"Sweden? He-" Norway almost fell over when an unfamiliar nurse opened the door. They blinked at each other. She only managed to open her mouth, when Norway was already running past her. "I was just leaving."

The brunette woman stood there watching as Norway ran to the stairs. Then she looked back in the room, where she saw a man crouching over his own hands. She thought she saw something sparkle in his palm, but forgot all about it when the man suddenly hit the wall behind himself.

"Fuck!"


	5. Lunchtime

_Ring!_ The elevator door opened and out came a man pushing another in a wheelchair. The one in the wheelchair was holding unto a pair of crutches, almost possessively, as if it was the most precious thing he had in the whole world at the moment.

Denmark just had the longest elevator ride in his life.

Only four floors it seems, but something about the way Denmark and Sweden watched each other in the mirror made time last forever.

Denmark quickly signed out at the reception; he couldn't wait to put his hurt leg to use. Having Sweden hover over him didn't make those wheelchair rides any pleasant. It made Denmark feel like a dried out lemon. Compressed and sour.

A few days ago Denmark wouldn't notice the small height difference between them, but now that Denmark was at a child's level he noticed how tall Sweden really was. The height issue vanished, once Denmark's weight fell on the crutches again. He wasn't very fast, but he was happy to move those buttocks again. Having taking glimpse of Sweden's black jeep, Denmark increased his speed only to be held back by the armpit.

"D'nt hurry. It's wet."

Indeed it was wet outside. A rain passed during Denmark's stay. The air was seemingly fresher and the sky was purely white from the clouds.

Getting in the car wasn't supposed to be troublesome, but that's exactly what it turned out to be. At first Denmark just wanted to stretch out on the leathery back seats, but his long-long legs still wouldn't quite fit in, unless he put them out the window, which was a no-no. In the end Denmark settled for the front seat, leaning back in it and placing his broken leg on the dashboard.

"Hohkey~! Can we go now?"

"Hn." Sweden passed Denmark a car key and a piece of paper with some address written on it.

"Park'd yer car." Sweden started the engine. "Get it when yer bett'r."

"You did take my bag out, right?"

"Course."

Denmark was told not to put any weight on his deformed leg for a while. He could still drive a car, but if something happened, there's no way would he be able to prove in court that it wasn't his fault. Plus his home wasn't that near, sooner or later his leg would surely fall off, no matter how much pills he would take.

He'd take a flight back to Copenhagen. It was the only rational thing to do. The flight lasted only for about forty five minutes.

While on the way to the airport, Sweden picked up lunch for them at a hotdog stand. Denmark had this double sausage with mayo shrimp salad all wrapped up in lavash – a real monster to eat.

Sweden was always the kinda guy that liked his meals as fat and juicy as possible. How he still wasn't a whale sized fatso was a mystery. He probably took anti-cholesterol drugs. It had to be it. He wasn't a big bicycle fan like Denmark was. Speaking of which, Denmark had a feeling he'd be the one with extra meat layers in the upcoming month of passive mobility.

"You… You got me tea?" Denmark yelped in horror when he opened the lid of his cup.

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Yeah! You got yourself coffee and expect me to drink this grass?"

"What's wrong?"

"And you even ask…! No. Just no. Turn this car around we're going back to that frickin' shop and getting me that coffee!"

Ignoring Denmark's whining, Sweden took his own cup and opened the lid with one hand. "C'ffee is bad for you right now."

Denmark cupped his ear. "What's that? What did you say there? Sorry, ain't getting it! You want to share that coffee though?"

Sweden simply ignored Denmark's whining in favour of taking his first gulp of coffee.

But Denmark wouldn't let him.

"Oh, no you don't!" He suddenly grabbed Sweden's hand and jerked it toward himself making Sweden lose control of the wheel.

There was a long-drown-out beep.

When Denmark opened his eyes, his fingers were still entwined with Sweden's, holding the nearly crushed coffee cup together. The hot liquid spilled on his hand really burned. Still he didn't let go, not yet.

Some angry driver was swearing heavily at them. When he passed, Sweden let out a breath and let go of Denmark. He was now chuckling nervously.

Concerned, Denmark reached out to touch his shoulder. "Sve, you…?"

"ARGHHH!" Sweden's heavy hand was flying towards Denmark, who immediately squeezed his eyes shut. The blow never came. Denmark took a peek from his lids and was greeted by a slap on the neck. "Ah!" That was unexpected, well actually it was, but Denmark was expecting something more painful? He got off easy compared to what he knew Sweden could do to him.

Most people think that Sweden was some kind of gentle giant, seeing as how Finland clearly got along with him. The fact that Finland was extraordinary compliant didn't necessarily mean that Sweden had a soft side. Not that Denmark was that familiar with Finland, this whole fishing invitation was a whole lot of weird in the first place. It would have made a lot more sense if he invited Norway instead. In a way, those two were very alike. For instance, they both liked their black metal. Maybe the only thing they liked more than that was their black coffee.

Denmark looked at the half empty coffee cup he was holding, only to question himself if it was really worth the trouble.

"How's yer leg?" Sweden asked out of the blue. "You hit it?"

"Well yeah, you know, it's not that bad." Hell yeah it hurt! But something about the question being compassionate made Denmark panic and blurt out reassuring words.

Sweden moved his car to the roadside and started searching his glovebox for something. It was a bit intimate when Sweden's hand brushed against Denmark's thigh when he opened the compartment. There was no other way though, Denmark's hurt leg was on the cupboard and the glovebox was only in front of the passenger's seat. Sweden could ask Denmark to search for the things he needed, but Sweden was in a hurry and didn't put much thought on that he was doing was making Denmark uncomfortable.

"You done digging in my ass yet?" Sweden found his prize; it was a box of snus. He placed one portion under his lip.

"Can I have some?"

Sweden gave Denmark a peculiar look. "No." He placed it back in the compartment.

"Why not? Is it because you're a greedy bastard?"

"You starting over again? Told ya, it's bad for you!"

"Fuck you, man! Bad this, bad that…" Denmark still did it his way and took out the box again.

Sweden didn't protest any further. Denmark was glad that Sweden decided to respect his decisions for once. Which he really shouldn't have since all Denmark did was mostly to oppose Sweden in some way. Even if it meant causing harm to himself.

Speaking of which, Denmark's body really was killing him at the moment. His temperature rose up and now he was sweating heavily. He took of his sweater and threw it on the backseat.

"M'be we should get back to the hospital."

"Said I'm fine. You know. On second thought, turn on the heater."

The sweat drops on Denmark's forehead didn't get a chance to dry, but he was already blowing his hands to stay warm. Sweden frowned deeply at this.

"It's alright, it's alright, the doctor told me I could be experiencing these kinds of swings. Hey, Sve. You know this girl playing right now. Jessie J." Denmark was referring to the radio. "She broke her leg this summer too."

Sweden raised an eyebrow. "… an' you know that 'cause."

"I know that because a Danish designer happened to save her show. You know, we put her on this throne so that she wouldn't have to move much on stage. Chilling like a royalty and all! It was super cool." Denmark fist bumped the air.

Thankfully Sweden was spared of Denmark's bragging by a phone call he was receiving from Iceland. Sweden turned the radio off, put the phone on max volume and placed it between the front seats.

"Hey Egill."

"Hey Berwald. We got on board."

Excited to hear Iceland's voice again, Denmark entered into the conversation, "Egill! What's up lil' bro?"

"Hey. You tell me. You're the one with a broken leg."

"A-haha! How about a bit of compassion?"

"Mathias, you…" A child's voice was heard in the background of Iceland's speech. "Ah, sorry Berwald. I'll call you back. Jonas needs to go to the bathroom." Iceland hung up. Denmark pursed his lips.

"Wait. Jonas as in…?"

"Åland."

"Your kid, right? What's he doing with Iceland?"

"Ic'land's escorting him to Stockh'lm."

"… and where are they now?"

"Finland."

"Ice was spending time at Finn's house? Hm. No one told me about that."

"At Estonia's."

In Denmark's high pitched voice you could hear an unmasked amusement. "Really now?"

"We're here." Sweden announced.

They reached the airport, a crowded place with all the hustling and bustling of people. Sweden carried Denmark's bag for him to the check in. His phone rang again. He stepped out of the queue as to not get interrupted by other people's jabber.

Sweden was naturally speaking Swedish. Most of the time countries spoke their native language and got understood by one another. Having to live longer than an average human gave them time to learn every language there is to learn. It was enough time to forget every single one of them as well. Even the past, childhood dreams were remembered through history books and nothing more. No one could remember himself for so long, it would no doubt drive anybody insane.

Unintentionally Denmark overheard that he was talking with his island kid. Sweden was gently asking his son about trivial stuff that divorced parents usually asked; about his health, has he been eating well and how Finland was doing. Åland Islands was probably in that age right now when young nations tried remembering things that happened only a few centuries ago. Little did he know it was all futile.

Denmark got his ticket, the bag was paid for. He still had a little time left before the flight.

"So, I really should probably get going. See you, Berwald!"

Sweden shook his head and placed his hands in his pockets. He didn't move much from his place other than that. There was something still left unsaid. Denmark was patiently waiting for Sweden to say his goodbyes and be the first one to turn his back and go.

"Mathias."

"Hm? What?"

"Olav was upset when he left the hospital."

Denmark's breathing stopped for a moment.

It was coming. Sweden would reveal that he knew the truth from Norway.

Denmark didn't quite understand himself what he was afraid of. It's not like Sweden would yell at him, no, he wouldn't make a scene. Sweden would sigh disappointingly at most. The thing is Denmark would take a kick in the gut any day, if only Sweden would not act like he wasn't worth getting angry over.

"Wha' didya say to him?"

Sweden didn't know. Norway didn't tell him.

"I. I asked him what you did to my bike."

Sweden chuckled at this.

Denmark lowered his head and shook it. Then he looked back up at Sweden, bit down his lower lip and bitterly smiled. "You ass~. You just left it in the park, didn't ya?"

"Needed to make sure you get to the hospital alright. You shouldn't hav' asked Olav that. He actually cares for you... More then about some bike."

Denmark parted his lips and looked up at Sweden. His eyes were mute as usual, but he was looking back for once.

"The time, Mathias. Goodbye."


	6. Intercom Talking

A/N: Another huge thanks to Vevici for spending time to beta-read my story.

* * *

><p><em>Beep! Beep! Beep!<em>

Denmark's eyes shot open, "Oh-no-no-no-no…" the words echoed in Denmark's mouth as he covered his eyes with his hands.

This beeping sound meant that he had to get up from the couch and reply to the intercom that was calling him.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"COMING!" He yelled through the whole apartment to no one. Denmark rubbed his temple in annoyance.

His crutches were standing right next to the sofa, but Denmark accidentally knocked them over when he was stretching his arms to get them. "Damn it!"

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

With a grunt from his throat and a twist of the hips, he somehow set his feet on the floor. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was numb, and suddenly felt a rush of blood to the head.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Then he leaned down, carefully as to not tip over and fall, to pick up his crutches. Steadily, he shifted his weight on the crutches and took a leap. "Gack! Cramp!"

His leg hurt really bad, mainly because he didn't get the time to take his morning dose of pain-killers.

Miraculously he didn't trip on the plastic bottles and other garbage lying around on the floor. He placed the crutches firmly with each step on his good leg and took small hops in such manner. Reaching the door, he leaned on it and hit the reply button. "Yes! Hello." He panted into the speaker.

"This is Ronja." A female voice replied.

The name didn't ring a bell which made Denmark even more annoyed at the thought that this person could have dialed the wrong apartment number. "Uh… Ronja, who?"

"Ronja." The voice replied persistently. "As in from the Faroese."

"Oh. Ronja." Denmark sighed at the realization. "Ronja! What are you doing here?"

"Just let me in."

Denmark just hit the button to unlock the door to the apartment house. _Beep!_

He also unlocked his front door before he headed back to the couch to massage his poor leg.

As he presumed, soon the metal door was slowly pushed open. "Mathias?"

"U-hu?"

"Why didn't you reply to my phone calls?" Denmark heard Faroe Islands shut the heavy door behind herself.

"Euch!" She exclaimed as if she was disgusted by something. Then he heard her drop something heavy, like a bag, in the entrance hall. In a few moments he could feel her standing behind the couch on which he lay as he watched a cycling championship on TV.

He cut a glance at her.

She didn't change much from the last time they met. No make-up on her pale face, neither did she do anything more original with her hair than a ponytail. And her clothes… They were boringly practical.

"Denmark, what have you been doing?"

"I was busy! Consults about my leg and there's stuff up the parliament. By the way, did you not notice my leg at all?"

Faroe nodded looking at the leg. "I called Norway when I couldn't reach you. He told me everything about it."

"Everything?" Denmark squeaked at the thought what 'everything' could mean.

But Faroe, it seemed, didn't know 'everything' judging from the way she quickly dropped the topic.

"M-hm. I met up with your prime-minister to discuss the upcoming elections, so did Greenland, but he took off just after. By the way, what's with your phone, even the stationary?

"Nothings wrong with it! I think it's here." Denmark pulled out his cell phone from under the cushion he was sitting on. "Oops. It's discharged."

"Denmark…" She sighed. "It's completely fine in your condition not to go out much, but you could have at least asked your neighbors or friends to take the trash out for you. I mean look at this place! It's like after a metal party."

"I'm pretty capable myself, thank you very much! And I did have friends over! Markus and Lilie, you know Barbie too."

Faroe shook her head in disapproval, knowing exactly what kind of people they were. "Wait. Who's Barbie?"

"Barbara! You know her, I used to work with her when-"

"That prostitute?" Her nostrils widened and she knitted her eyebrows.

"Nah! I wouldn't call her that. She's a pole-dancer."

"You know, you could have just called me over if you had problems taking care of yourself. You know that I'm often around Copenhagen."

Denmark pulled his tongue out and started teasing Faroe. "Thekin' kae of ye self!"

"Okay then." She placed her hands in mid, air in front of Denmark's face, motioning for him to stop, and breathed in and out to cool herself. "Did you at least have breakfast today?"

"Um. There's some cheese left here on the carpet." Denmark looked down at the wrapping lying next to the couch.

"No. Just don't. I'm going to see what I can find in your fridge" She picked up some plates that were visible on the floor and went away. Denmark knew Faroe would see an even bigger mess in the kitchen than the living room. Denmark grew very still and even cupped his ear in hopes of hearing at least one new swear word used to describe him. A few seconds of dead silence passed, then he heard a rattle of a plate and then some angry muttering.

"Denmark! Why don't you take a shower while I clean up? We're going out to eat!" Came Faroe's voice from the kitchen.

"WHY!"

"Your fridge is completely empty! Go wash yourself! Or do you need help with that too?"

"I don't want to wash~!" He whined, "How about you pick up some necessities from the closest store and be done with that?"

"Get in the shower! You need to get out and… You stink!"

"Alright, alright… Sheesh…" Denmark sighed as he lazily got up from the couch,"You know you're awfully bossy when I'm at a disadvantage! Taking your chance to feel important, HUH?"

She didn't reply to that.

Taking a shower was supposed to be a relaxing experience, but to Denmark it was quite the opposite. Well at least not anymore now that he had to make up creative ways of getting himself cleaned without falling and breaking something else. Thankfully, he found a small plastic chair to put in the tub. Now he didn't have to worry about keeping the leg dry, he just hung it out the tub while sitting down.

After a while there was a knock on the door. "Are you alive in there?"

"Yeah! Almost done. " However, he was getting kind of dizzy from the steam and hunger.

"Okay! I'm waiting for you here!"

It only took a few seconds till a half nude Denmark was out for a stroll in the apartment. While passing the living room he saw Faroe unwinding the wire of the vacuum cleaner.

They shared a simple look.

Taking another step, Denmark almost lost his towel. He caught it just in time to cover himself. Faroe saw that, and Denmark saw that she did too. They looked away and giggled.

Once in his room Denmark didn't hurry to get dressed up. First he decided to lay naked on his bed for a bit. Thoughts of the unresolved conflict with Norway were still running through his head, he couldn't piece them together. Mainly due to his leg pain that was drawing all of his attention away.

He really needed some pills at the moment. There were some on the cupboard, but they weren't the right ones. Those were antidepressants. Yet they wouldn't hurt, right?

After a while Denmark came out of his room wearing white turtleneck and his stripper pants. He sneaked up behind Faroe, who was finishing vacuuming.

He cleared his throat and then she turned around to face him.

She tilted her head and frowned at him. "You didn't wash your hair?"

"OH! Now come on!"

"You could have at least shaved yourself. You look like a bum."

"Hey!"

Denmark personally thought he looked fine. Or at least better then he was before the shower. He had to admit, the warm water really did do him good.

Faroe was now putting the vacuum cleaner and other cleaning utensils away then she went to the kitchen again to retrieve the bag of trash she managed to gather around the apartment.

"Faroe! Hurry up! Now you're the one who's dragging us down."

Denmark was already fully dressed and waiting for her near the front door.

"Just a moment!" She was kneeling besides her holdhall trying to find her small purse in one of the pockets.

When they finally exited the flat and appeared on the staircase platform, they happened to run into Denmark's old lady neighbour.

"Oh! Mathias! How are things going? Will you be cooking those coconut pies again soon?"

"Good day Misses Seterholm! Ah! I'm fine, you know how I am! I probably won't be working at the bakery till next month. How are your grandchildren?"

"My youngest is in the first grade right now and next week it will be her birthday!"

"Really now? Then I'll be sure to bake an exceptional treat for ye!"

"You shouldn't Mathias."

While the miniature grandma was trying to give Denmark a hug, he was giving Faroe mixed signals with his eyes; they varied from 'save yourself' to 'save me'.

"And who's that girl standing behind you?"

"Oh, that's my sister. She studies abroad and came to visit for a while."

Faroe stretched out her hand for the woman to shake. "Pleased to meet you. My name is Ronja."

The woman took her hand and introduced herself. "Birgit Seterholm. You're lucky to have a brother like Mathias. Take good care of him, you hear!"

"M-hm." Faroe replied shyly.

The woman wouldn't let go of her hand and started somewhat caressing it. "Family should stick together."

When she finally let go, Faroe sighed in relief.

"Goodbye Mathias. Do visit the old woman for tea sometime."

"Of course Misses Seterholm!" Denmark waved her goodbye.

The last they saw of the woman was how she was trying to find her door keys in her bag.

In the elevator both Denmark and Faroe were smiling and exchanging skittish glances, but then Faroe had to ruin the fun and stated how overly polite he acted around the odd old woman. "I knew you were a ladies' man, but-"

"Oh, shut up…"

At the café, Denmark took a big omelet and Faroe took a risotto. It was already past three, it would be unwise to start with anything lighter.

After finishing her meal, Faroe took a newspaper to read. He noticed how every now and then she would peek from it to see if he was done, as if she had something important to talk to him about.

"Ouch! Bit mah thangue! Hehe! This is thoo delicious." He would have definitely starved to death if Faroe had not showed up.

Faroe sighed and rested her temple on her knuckle. "Mathias. About my suggestion…"

"Forget it. Either live with it or stop being a free-loader." He answered not even breaking eye contact with the food on his plate.

"Right. You know, I thought about that." She cast her eyes down.

"And?"

"You know, I also talked with Olav about that. He's not sure the oil I found will help."

"Ronja. What's your problem? If you want your independence - go for it! I'll understand. I'm your brother for Pete's sake."

Faroe blinked. Apart from that there was no reaction.

Denmark covered her hand with his own palm. "I'll even support you. Well… During the first four years I mean."

"I don't know." She looked down.

Denmark rolled his eyes and let go of her. "It's alright. You have time. Waiter!" Denmark snapped his fingers. "Check, please."

The busboy took notice and hurried to his customer. "Together or each man for himself?"

Faroe was already taking out her wallet when Denmark replied for them. "Together."

She gave him a 'what the fuck' look. "Uh, no-"

"I'll pay." Denmark persisted.

She pursed her lips like she ate something sour and put her wallet away.

"Ronja. I told you it's alright. It's not like your dept will be any smaller if you pay for yourself just this time."

Faroe was looking miserable at the moment, the way she did when she agreed with Denmark.

Meanwhile Denmark swallowed down his meds.

After the lunch , Faroe went grocery shopping alone, because Denmark was far too tired to pick his own supplies. He took a bus and returned to the safety of his beloved flat.

Time flew slowly, there was nothing to watch on the TV and Denmark found joy in playing one of his favorite video games. After a while, he got bored of it and Faroe Islands still hasn't comeback.

Just laying on his red couch with nothing to do, he started noticing the slight modifications done to the living room. Magazines were neatly stocked under the coffee table, there were no trash and dirty clothes on the floor and the curtains were opened. There were other small things that made the room look cozier than before.

Also the cordless stationary phone was in place and getting charged. Denmark gulped at the thought that some people might be mad at him for not replying. Denmark made a short trip to the tv stand it was set on, took the phone and sat back on the couch to see who has called him lately.

The calls were mainly from Faroe and some of his human friends.

Three of them were from Finland, two from Sweden and one from Iceland, who was probably just trying to reach him on Faroe's behalf. But no phone calls from Norway.

He was probably still mad at Denmark. That was what made Denmark afraid of calling him himself. He wondered if Norway ever called him on his mobile which wasn't charging at the moment, but still lying in between cushions.

Denmark decided that he wouldn't call Norway, not today. He would definitely charge the phone and see if anyone was calling. But then another scary thought came to his mind that there could be furious messages sent to him or even worse: none.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

That was probably Faroe back from her grocery shopping and Denmark hoped that her fussing around the house would distract him from thoughts of his brother.


	7. Surprise Visit

"Ronja! Will you spend Christmas this year at Scandinavia maybe?"

"Hm. Well you know how I like to spend the holidays at Britain. They throw quite the parties there. But okay, I'll think about it." Replied Faroe while tying her shoelaces. She was out for another grocery trip. It was seven o' clock; last chance to buy anything before the stores closes.

"Okay. But hopefully I'll see you for New Year?"

"Goodbye Mathias." She headed out the front door and shut it behind herself before the last question reached her ears.

She said goodbye and with that Denmark knew she would hardly come for Christmas.

Denmark didn't let that bring him down. He should be satisfied by her just taking care of him here and now. Although he doubted if she did it out of affection, rather she thought she was obliged to do so since Denmark took care of her for most of her life.

After Faroe left Denmark found himself a bit sleepy and decided to snooze on his favourite couch for a while.

Soon, or maybe it just seemed like after a short period of time, the intercom rang.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

A few days past since Faroe Islands self proclaimed herself a nurse of Denmark's, so he was slightly surprised when he didn't hear her voice through the intercom, but an uncertain mutter. Denmark made a mental note to complain about the broken intercom.

_Beep!_

Denmark opened the door and this time decided to wait beside it for Faroe to arrive. He heard the elevator stop on his floor. Heavy footsteps followed, that certainly didn't belong to the one he was expecting.

Denmark felt a slight electric shock run through his heart.

Before he knew it, his door was jerked at. The only thing that kept it from opening was the door chain that Denmark forgot to unlock.

Denmark was taken aback by the eyes staring at him from the crack.

"Let me in."

Wordlessly, Denmark let the man in.

The first thing Sweden did, when he stepped in, was study the walls that surrounded him. "Nice renovation." It's like he was trying to occupy his eyes with anything but Denmark.

"Uh thanks, but I don't think you came here to discuss my interior design."

With his eyes, Denmark pointed to the beer can that Sweden was holding.

Sweden looked at Denmark and then without taking off his shoes walked into Denmark's kitchen. Sweden casually threw his wool coat on a chair and sat on the cutting table near the microwave.

This kind of attitude really ticked Denmark off. That guy was acting like he owned the place. "Okay, Sweden, you're acting super awkward right now! Why do you think you can just walk in here and start drinking on my cupboard?"

Sweden only gave him blank look in reply and gulped his beer.

"Did you hear what I said? Are you a retard? Hear this, if you wanna get wasted do it somewhere else!" Denmark bit his lip. "Or did you suddenly realize you miss me and want to cry into my bosom about it?"

This time Sweden frowned, shook his head and took another sip.

Denmark was about to say something again, but was interrupted by the thick voice of his brother. "I sent you m'ssages. Didn't reply, you didn't. Thought m'be ya tripped and killed yerself!"

"Ye did?"

Sweden shook his head a 'yes'.

"Huh." Denmark licked his teeth. "So you did miss me." Denmark sat on a random chair near the table. "Felt bad for baby Denmark and his boo-boo. Ye lonely bastard. You drove here all the way from Stockholm?"

"No."

"Whadaye mean no?"

"I moved."

"Here?"

"No, Helsingborg."

"Why Helsingborg? Besides being the shortest way to me and cheap booze without leaving your home base."

"I got a new job. Vid' Games."

"Video games? Interesting. But, uh… Ye… Ye still here to crash for the night and empty a few cans you probably have in the trunk, right?"

As Denmark saw this, Sweden was bored, he went to the other side to buy drinks, he became even more bored and decided to visit the only friend he had around, posing as 'I care about your health, I'm a nice guy, haha'.

"So. How's yer leg?"

"Get out."

"Denmark… If you-"

"I said get out, I don't need you here."

Sweden didn't need to be told thrice. As nonchalantly as he came, he took his things and walked out. He almost knocked over Faroe Islands, who was coming in. He gave her an annoyed look, yet didn't comment.

"See ya, Denmark." Sweden said before disappearing behind the front door.

Denmark was leaning next to the door waiting for Faroe to come in, which she didn't in favour of watching Sweden leave as if there was something enchanting in it.

Trusting Faroe to lock the door herself Denmark limped back to the kitchen where he found the beer can still standing on the table. He sat on down the table and took the half empty can in his hand, gave it an inspecting glance, sighed and looked at the kitchen floor.

A few seconds later he heard the loud thud of the front door being closed. Faroe entered the kitchen and placed the grocery bags on the table in front of him, but his gaze was still fixed on the floor.

"What was he doing here?" She asked while laying out the fruits she bought into the metal on the table.

"Oh. You know. Just passing by." Denmark answered apathetically.

"M-hm." Faroe started putting away everything else she bought into the refrigerator. "Should I make anything for the evening?"

"It's already evening. Almost."

"Then I will cook up something. You hungry, right?"

"Well, not yet. Not really." Denmark took a sip of the beer, then frowned at the can and placed it on the farthest corner of the table, remembering that just now a very unpleasant man was drinking from it. "Let's go watch a movie I downloaded!"

"You mean another cartoon, right? Still enjoy them since your last as an animator?"

"Yeah, you know me."

The last thing she took out of her plastic bag were a few new light bulbs and placed it on the table in front of Denmark. In her eyes you could read some kind of displeasure. "Denmark, the light bulb in your bathroom is dim."

Denmark took a deep sniff with his nose and acted like nothing was bothering him. "Yeah, I know that."

"Why not replace it then?" She folded her hands on her chest.

"Maybe I like it like that, plus I want to know how much it will take for it to die out."

"Tch! Okay. So you're going to wash your hair today or what?"

"Oi! Why! You! With your hair washing again?" Denmark was squeezing something invisible in his palms, or so it seemed with the way he curled his fingers. "If you want it clean so bad, then wash it yourself!"

Faroe opened her eyes widely and shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I wouldn't mind actually."

"Huh?"

Denmark didn't see it coming that his little stupid taunt was to be taking seriously. Having someone massage your head was a really good stress relief. He was sitting on the floor with his towel on his shoulders and his head leaned back over the bathtub. Faroe was standing just above him with the shower tube.

"Done." Just before leaving Denmark to his hair gels, hairdryers or whatever that he needed for self grooming, Faroe added. "You still stink for some reason."

"It's not me! It's my leg!"

"Your leg?"

"I can't exactly wash it under the cast! It gets dirty and the skin changes there and…"

"Okay, I get it. I'll leave you to it then."

Later on Denmark left his bathroom with dry, but abnormally wild hair. He limped to the living room where Faroe was already waiting for him with a bowl of popcorn.

"Whoa... Wicked hair there!" She gasped.

Upon sitting beside her he put his hand into his mane and scratched his head a bit. "Nothing a little hair gel won't fix."

"Nah, I don't think gel will help here. I think it's time you get a cut."

"A cut? Maybe. Argh! But right now it's absolutely unbearable! The hair gets in my eyes!" He complained while trying to smooth his bangs back with his hand so that they wouldn't fall on his face and blurry his vision.

"Here." She passed a few bobby-pins from her pocket. "The lazy way."

Denmark was giving her an doubtful look.

"Oh, come on now. Let me just get those hair out of the way." She motioned for him bow his head down a little to her level and he did so that she could pull the hair from his face.

He watched her eyes focus on his head and her hands gently work their way through his hair. "Since when have you become my hairstylist?"

"Shush. Or else I'm gonna rip out some hair with skin. There. You have a Norwegian wig right now on your head."

When Denmark reached the closest mirror he could, he saw that Faroe really did duplicate Norway's hairstyle on him, especially with the way she criss-crossed two pins to secure his hair. "Norwig indeed. Hey! Hey! Am I Norwegian now?!"

"Heh. No, not really. You two are not very alike."


	8. Selfish Sorrow

Hurray!

That's how Denmark greeted his mornings, and today was a day worth greeting, to his surprise. The sky was clear and only a few clouds in the distance threatened to cover it in darkness.

The reason why he could see all of this from his window was that he happened not to curtain it like he usually did before going to bed.

This day, not only was he woken by sunlight, but also by somebody turning beside him. It was Faroe Islands. She got up earlier than him as always cause she certainly had a better sleep, even though she had to get a few times to get him water and what not.

He decided to fully open his eyes after a half an hour. He stared at the ceiling then glanced at the bedside table.

Without thinking much about it, he reached out to grab the cell phone that lay on it. He unplugged it from the charger and was now looking at it, like he did when he needed to call Norway.

The clock on the wall was ticking slowly. It felt like he heard it tick for the very first time in his life.

Denmark shook his head. He was acting stupid. He didn't even turn the phone on yet he's worrying about what he's going to say.

When Denmark did turn on the phone, he found an unexpected amount of messages from Sweden on his cell.

It was extraordinary that a man with big hands like Sweden's could write so much text in short periods of time. Denmark saw him type in real time before. It was a creepy image of long agile fingers dialing swiftly on a small soapbox that they call phone these days.

The messages that Sweden sent weren't anything special; they were just sweet little spams like what Sweden thinks about his job and Helsingborg, mentions of visiting Denmark; boring crap like that.

Denmark always thought Sweden was better talking via text. When he did, he was not afraid of saying stupid sentimental things, unlike during face to face conversations, where talking about ice-cream flavor was a complicated topic.

Denmark noticed that the sky went dark only after he read his last SMS. He still hasn't called Norway, while a thunderstorm was threatening to come.

He got up and went to the bathroom to make his call. Why bathroom? He didn't know. There was just something relaxing about sitting on the bucket without using it for its true purpose.

Though at first, he did use it. Then he also decided to cool his face with water, shave and brush his teeth while he's at it – he did basically everything to delay his call a little bit.

Feeling fresher helped Denmark muster up some courage to call. Eventually he dialed Norway's number and was awaiting for that one voice to reply.

"Yeah, hello Olav."

"Hey..." Norway was breathing heavily on the other side of the line.

"Didn't wake you, did I? You sound like you just got up. Hehe!"

"Oh, no, I'm awake and at work mind you."

"Oh. Should I call you back later then?"

"I won't bother picking up later. So spill it now."

"Right… See, Olav. I apologize for what happened."

"Go on."

"It was really stupid of me. Ye know, I just suddenly had this stupid urge to screw shit up! Ye know what I mean and… We cool, right."

"Forgot all about it. Chill. I should have expected something of sorts from a man-child like you anyway."

Denmark wasn't sure if to be happy that Norway wasn't mad at him anymore or fear that he is becoming indifferent like Sweden. "Ha, yeah… So what are you doing right now?"

"Having a smoke break."

"You still work in that antique coffee shop?"

"Of course. It's cute." Norway answered simply.

"Aye, know I shouldn't say this, but didn't Berwald tell you not to smoke… Much?"

"Oi. Fuck Berwald and his opinions. What, did he put you up on his road of righteousness?"

"Haha! Yeah. Right. Then I would probably be scolding my queen for being a smoker. He would like that to be."

"Certainly." Denmark could hear Norway take a long drag on the cigarette through the phone.

"By the way, Berwald moved to Helsingborg, he told you that, right?"

Norway made a small pause and sighed. "Yeah."

"He payed me a visit yesterday." Denmark said it with some obvious bitterness.

"… That's a good thing, right?"

"To him it may be good, but I was not ready for his sorry ass to crash here and drink himself silly."

"Mathias, you kicked him out?"

"He was annoying! Know what! You don't ever act like that, why should I let him-"

"Mathias, listen-"

"You actually visit me when you're sober unlike that-"

"Mathias. Shut up. Shut up. Now listen... Why do you always have to think that the world spins around you? Berwald deserves to be pitied sometimes too, you know?"

"Ole, what are you on about? I ain't gonna lick his wounds for him."

"He's full of shit. Shit we don't know about and when he's finally there to drink and spill it you just send him off to self-destruct. Now you've done it."

"Hey! I deal with inner shit all the time. I have had enough of dealing with other peoples shit too, okay? And I don't want to deal with someone that I can't make out whether his 'hn' means joy, sadness or worry, or 'I will fucking kill you'."

"See. It's all about you again, is it not? Now shove your complains up your ass, because I'm not here to hear about your fucked up relationship with him and-"

"Since when is this conversation about me and him?! I didn't call for this. I called cause I miss you!"

"No. You called to say what a bad guy Berwald is for making you feel bad about not giving A FUCK ABOUT HIM! Huh?! How does that make you feel?"

"Shut up…! You don't know shit about how I feel! Damn." Denmark hung up.

Denmark stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom rubbing his face with his palms, thinking where did it all had to go wrong, when he was calling only to say sorry.

He felt cold. After a while he dressed up and appeared in the kitchen to see what Faroe was cooking up. She was leaning on fridge, her legs crossed. She was still wearing his grey shirt that she wore as a nightie. The way she tucked it into her jeans half way was something you could call stylish. She looked at the ceiling, deep in thought and weakly blew on the coffee in her mug she was holding up to her face.

She took notice of him. "What should I make for breakfast?"

"Uh. Nothing." Denmark grunted and sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

"Should I make you tea then, since you're not hungry?"

"I wouldn't mind."

She turned on the kettle and pulled out some groceries from the fridge. Denmark noticed that besides some vegetables she pulled out a big trout. "Fish?" He asked uncertain of what she was about to do with it.

"Yeah, I thought of making a soup," Faroe replied lively.

"Okay, that's fine. You're about to cook it now?"

"You'll get hungry eventually."

Faroe took out a mug from the cupboard, but when the boiling kettle clicked, she froze and then suddenly went out of the kitchen to look for something. She came back with a few chocolate bars. "Almost forgot. Iceland passed down these little souvenirs."

"Would you look at that! Estonian chocolates." Denmark exclaimed in surprise. "So our little bro is hanging around weird people."

"Well. I wouldn't call Estonia weird. He's not a bad guy. Sucky at football though. Lost a few times to me. Can you believe it? To me." Faroe said ridiculing herself.

"What was Iceland exactly doing there?"

"Oh, you know how he supported Estonia's independence. Estonia was kinda throwing his anniversary party. Iceland was a special guest there. So it would be impolite not to attend."

"Still. I'm gonna tease the hell out of Ice once I get the chance."

Soon Denmark got his tea. He was surprised at the taste. "You remember how many sugar spoons I like?"

"It hasn't been that long since we lived together."

Faroe started preparing her meal, setting out the ingredients and cleaning the fish. She cut it's head off with an uncanny precision, no effort applied.

Denmark gulped.

Their eyes met when she glanced back over her shoulder. Denmark hoped she hasn't caught the uneasiness in his eyes which, could lead to reviewing an embarrassing incident with him. She didn't slow down on cutting her soup ingredients, but that didn't mean that she wasn't able to pay attention to several things at once. "So. Really? Fishing? The last time you went fishing with Russia and Finland, you fainted."

"Oh, shut up. Russia started hitting the fish, he was just freaking me-"

"Well, he was probably trying to kill it. To eat. You know?"

"You don't know anything. He did it in such fashion, that I thought I was next! He was just like… Like…"

"Like what?"

Denmark was at loss of words.

Faroe sighed. "Quoting Russia 'this guy dizzy when cutting sausage too?'"

"Oi! Fuck you! You know what? He reminded me of you! With the way you don't flinch when killing whales."

Faroe stopped cutting, but only for a moment. It should have indicated to Denmark that he said something wrong, but it really didn't.

"Maybe I should make you a veggie soup instead?"

"Nah, don't bother. Anyway, Sweden said I should eat more fish. You know, for my bones and such."

"You are more of a pork guy… So, Sweden's opinion is important to you?"

"Kss! If it was, don't you think I'd pull your whaling down?"

Faroe bit her lip down. "Do you think… Sweden hates me?"

"No... Why would you say that?"

"I think he hates me."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure he keeps a CD of one of your metal bands in the glovebox."

The knife fell down and rattled on the floor.

"Dammit." Faroe hurriedly leaned down to pick it up.

"Hit your toes?" Denmark asked, not really concerned.

When she was facing the sink, Denmark couldn't tell that she was having an emotional meltdown, but there she was with her face red and hiccuping.

"Faroe, are you-"

She hit the knife flat against the table, which made Denmark gasp in surprise.

"He hates me! He fucking does! And you're not fond of me either!" She spat out hysterically.

Drops started falling down her face and it was not pretty like in those shoujo anime. The grimace she made, while trying to hold it in, certainly wasn't something you'd dare to call cute.

"How do you expect me to go in life like this? And it's not like I don't try. I try, I try real hard for people to understand that I don't get off on killing!"

"Faroe, calm down!" Denmark stood, up leaning on the kitchen table.

"No! I will not fucking calm down, Denmark! The whaling criticism I get concerns you as well! Isn't it you who gets the most hate mail at the end of the day?!"

Denmark wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment.

Weird. That's probably what he felt. It was weird to see Faroe Islands like this.

He gotten used to the thought that she was one of the guys. Raised up to be stoic like them and sometimes she even seemed tougher. Denmark has forgotten that she could even virtually cry.

"I'm a burden to you, right? I should… I should have never come. I…"

That hit a spot and Denmark felt a like someone dumped a bucket of liquid guilt on his head. She was here taking care of him while he was not only taking it for granted, but acted like a dick overall. That's why Greenland never visited him if not compelled to. Cause Denmark was a dick. Yet Faroe still cared...

At the thought Denmark himself felt like crying, but he wouldn't. He swallowed the urge down. Moreover he wouldn't hang his own emotional problems on anyone anymore. He was the big brother of this family, wasn't he? And that meant it didn't matter what he felt as long as he could keep everybody else happy.

Denmark reached towards Faroe and pulled her in a simple hug. "It's alright Faroe."

Denmark has forgotten that Faroe Islands was, above all, his sister. "It's alright to cry."


	9. Plastic Face

_Bzzzzz!_ That was the sound of the electric saw that was sinking into Denmark's leg.

On an early Wednesday morning, Denmark's plaster leg cast was taken off and replaced with an air cast. Finally he got the chance to itch his leg. The aching has been killing him for the first weeks, but then he partially got used to it.

It was the middle of October, so on top of all, he decided to put a colorful woolen sock on his leg to keep it warm. His leg wouldn't quite fit into his average shoes yet, but the swelling did noticeably go down.

Little by little, Denmark started bearing weight on his leg, though he couldn't step on his leg just yet and thus maintained a close tie to his crutches.

A few hours later on the same morning Denmark got his leg done, he took a train to Helsinborg. This time he didn't intend to make a surprise entrance, so when he arrived he was met by Sweden and a cheerful bark.

"Woahoe! Berwald, where did you get this wild pooch?"

Denmark tried not to get knocked over by the big white dog that tried leaping at him. "Bark! Bark!"

Thankfully Sweden had a tight grip on the leash. "Found em."

Denmark put both of his crutches under one arm and crouched down to sink his free hand in the fur of the dog. "Such a good boy! Who would lose such a lovely dog? What breed is he anyway?"

"Great Pyrenees."

"Oh. Great. I like that. How long was it ago since you found em?"

"A week ago."

Denmark's eyes were sparkling with glee. The dog seemingly calmed down at Denmark's touch. That's how Denmark was; loved by animals, children and women. "Hope he won't be bothered by my casts like the other dogs I ran into recently. They got mad, started barking. Anyway, you named him? It's a he right?"

"Mhm. Compass."

"... That's a good name. Surprisingly. Unlike your last dog's name." Denmark straightened and they started heading towards the parking lot near the train station. Compass seemed to pay little to no attention to the clicking sound Denmark made when he limped with his casts. The calmness of the dog was almost unnatural.

"It was Tino's idea. I didn't like the name much." Sweden lowered his head and was looking sadly at Compass,who was walking in front of them.

"How's he handling it? He seemed pretty attached to the pooch." Denmark asked in concern.

"So-so. Hana lived longer than an av'rage dog."

"Right. You found her in the nineties?"

"Eighties."

"Whoa! That's long... Well, seems like the dog loved it's owners. Especially you. You made her do all kinds of cool tricks. Even in her final days you managed to teach the old dog new stuff."

"Hn."

"So anyway. Is he yours to keep then? Compass I mean?"

"Not exactly."

Denmark gave Sweden a wild look upon hearing such words. "Whadaya mean not exactly?! It's a wonderful dog! Keep him. Or did the owner turn up or something?"

"No. C'mpass lives in a shelter. I walk C'mpass everyday, but I don't have conditions to keep em yet."

"Huh? So where do you live? Does the landlady not allow keeping pets?"

"IKEA."

"What?"

Denmark did not believe it to the very end until he saw it with his very own eyes. After they dropped off Compass at his shelter they went to the furniture store that was famous around the world.

"IKEA… NO! No! You're pulling my leg! Oh, wait. Bad joke. You get what I mean!"

While Denmark was still in disbelief that Sweden presumably lives in a store, Sweden himself casually slumped in one of the beds and took out his laptop. "It's tru'. Said I was a student doing a research work about room compositions in furniture stores... and how they would affect people or are they really practical or something like that."

"What? They bought that?" Denmark's mouth twitched

Sweden sighed and scratched his ears. "Not without some fake d'cuments 'n' hacking."

Denmark licked his teeth and rolled his eyes."That is one of the most ridiculous research works I ever heard of... But wait, how can you live here if there's even no running water in the bathroom area?!"

"Use th' staff lock'r room."

"How about TV? Or is internet enough for you?"

"No TV, but I conn'cted one of the big screens to my pers'nal computer. I need that for games."

"Okay. It's cool." Denmark turned his back on Sweden and pretended to casually stroll around. "I have no more questions." Then he dramatically turned his head back at Sweden. "But… Ugh. God! What's the real reason you're crashing here?!"

Sweden gave Denmark a taunting look.

"Seriously? Just for the thrills? Okay. Okay. I'm just going to go wait for my train to Oslo and head off. No biggy. Let this crazy man frighten the customers of Ikea."

Denmark was leaving and Sweden wasn't even looking his way to see him go. He was already working on a new file on his laptop, eyes focused on nothing else, but the blue screen. In a minute Denmark turned back to cackle in front of Sweden. "Oh you! You know I can't just leave like that now! I want to spend a night here too! Let's start a fire or something and built a fortress from pillows!"

"Didn't you already buy your ticket to Oslo?"

"I don't care anymore."

"Well then, help yerself. Hav' work to do now. Don't bother me."

"What? You can do your work wherever you are?"

"Can program p'rfectly fine anywhere."

"Tch! What am I going to do then if you're busy?"

Sweden dug in his laptop bag and pulled out a disk. "Ya can play in the living room."

"Hn. Right. A video game. The screen is to the left?"

"M-hm."

After about twenty minutes of playing one of Sweden's twisted horror video games Denmark couldn't help, but to cry out in horror when a little girl sneaked up on him from behind only to ask what he was doing.

He really hoped Sweden didn't hear that one.

After about forty five minutes Denmark returned to him with a look on his face that clearly stated that he was utmost disgusted. Wordlessly he handed the disk back to the laying man.

"Didn't like it?" Sweden asked slyly.

"Why would you make such a scary game in the first place?! Don't you have something gayer and nicer, maybe something your kid would like to play? What's his name again, Jonas?"

"So you didn't like it?"

"I have mixed feelings. Something between pissed my pants and yeah... I'll play it later on."

"Here." Sweden pulled out another game.

"Dude! This one also has a scary name. You sure this is a good game."

"Trust me."

"Okay, but I'm warning you, if this will be another horror game, I'm going to shit on one of your beautiful couches. Unwillingly."

"M-hm." Sweden's eyes were focused on his work and his lack of recognition of Denmark's presence made it all too clear to Denmark that Sweden wished to be left alone.

Denmark found the second game to be rather amusing, not to mention with a cute design and good music. Now it took about an hour and a half for Denmark to comeback, not because he got bored of the game, but because of natural needs and a numbed back.

"Better?" Sweden asked glancing up at the man with the casts.

"Good." Denmark was grinning brightly. "Really pulls you in. So Berwald. Where's the toilet here?"

"That one scare you too?"

"Fuck you~." Denmark said with a loving voice.

Sweden pointed in some direction and added. "Then right…"

"Gotcha. Say, Berwald. With all the ceilings never reaching the floor and the open space, doesn't that make you feel like in a Barbie house of sorts? Like being watched and manipulated?"

"No. Not really."

"You… You don't get distracted by people from your work?"

"No."

"They don't come to your side, ask you questions? I got distracted by the people several times."

"That's because you look unnatural."

"Oh, right and you are the perfect mannequin." Denmark took a step back and looked at Sweden and found that his words were almost true. Sweden didn't move expect his big, and at first glance clumsy, hands hitting the keyboard. "You just look too serious and occupied, that's why people are afraid of approaching you. I bet this bed will never be sold at this rate."

Denmark leaned close to Sweden and poked him in the cheek. He jerked his hand away from Sweden as if he got burned by his skin. "Ugh! Not only do you look like plastic, you feel like plastic! Do you work out your cheeks out or something? They're too hard to be human! Haha!"

"Weren't you going to the bathroom?" Sweden glared at Denmark.

"Yeah, right. Uh… Which way is it again?"

Sweden sighed and pointed in the direction again. "And then right."

"Thanks."

After that it took Denmark more time than before to comeback. He returned only after two hours. He made known of his arrival by throwing a big rug on top of Sweden. That startled Sweden so that he, in state of effect, hit the rug as if it was alive and he wanted it dead.

"Took me a while to find that bathroom, but look what I stumbled upon! You still naming your doormats after Danish cities!"

Sweden sighed and placed the rug carefully at the feet of his bed.

"You still on about that? Told you I'm not a part of this. I don't name rugs."

"Yeah right!" Denmark stood there pouting like a child.

Sweden readjusted himself in bed and continued his work on the laptop. "Will it make you feel better if I say I name doorknobs after Swedish cities?"

"Hardly! Like you only name doorknobs, you name lots of other good essential furniture after yourself."

"You just don't appreciate rugs enough." Sweden leaned out of the bed to stroke the rug. "See, it's a good rug."

"Ew. Don't stroke it like that. Anyway, you think I don't see the clever think I'm a doormat to your house!"

"Why do you always find insults when there's none. You think everybody is so anxious about you?"

A growl escaped Denmark's stomach. Sweden glanced up, surprised. "About supper time. Let's go to the cafeteria."

It was close to closing hours in IKEA that's why there were not many people around the store and practically none at the cafeteria.

A cook named Vanessa offered Sweden that which she usually cooked for the customers, but he politely declined her offer. Sweden preferred to eat what he cooked himself.

Denmark was completely famished and was feeling weak, so he deiced to sit down by one of the tables and let Sweden do the cooking. He trusted him on that matter. "Amaze me, Ber!"

Sweden smirked at Denmark and, heroically wielding his ladle, disappeared into the kitchen.

Most of his homelanders would probably call him crazy trying out Swedish dishes, saying that he would most likely get poisoned. But if it wasn't intentional, then there's nothing to fear. Sweden was a good cook and hopefully was not intending to poison Denmark today.

Plus Denmark was a guest here today in IKEA and Sweden was the host, it was only logical that Denmark wasn't supposed to cook today.

Denmark was served trout with cream sauce and wild rice. He was displeased to have to eat fish again, but was far too hungry to complain. The smell was inviting and Denmark took delight in digging into the meal.

It was delicious. Denmark didn't quite remember when was the last time he ate something so simple, but so good. His last girlfriend was definitely not a great cook, neither was Faroe. Denmark mentally noted that he finally found proof to his theory that women can't cook.

At first it was a simple compliment. "Berwald. This is very good."

Denmark wasn't usually generous about giving out compliments, to men that is, especially if it's Sweden, but this time he just couldn't stop himself. "My god, this is amazing."

They say if the door to the heart is closed, you got to knock on the stomach. That certainly worked on Denmark and this evening he let himself say more good things he thought about Sweden than usual.

In reality, Denmark thought highly of Sweden. But he won't let that show, because by some strange paradox the closer he got to Sweden the colder he treated Denmark.

Norway was right. Sweden never let anybody in.

"So how did you cook it? What's the catch?"

"Finn'sh recipe." Sweden, who has also finished his meal, rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He pressed his cheeks so that his lips gathered in a bow and looked puffier. His gaze was directed towards the floor.

"You've been thinking of him, right?"

Sweden didn't look up or reply, he just frowned in a way Denmark had finally learned meant 'no'.

"So how are things going with him anyway? You met up with your child in Stockholm after you took me to the airport back then."

"Just for few days."

"You miss him. That's why you wanted to adopt that seaport kid."

The wrinkle in between Sweden's eyebrows grew deeper. "I don't miss him and... The deal with Sealand fell through. His prince declined."

Sweden got up and took their trays with dishes to the kitchen. He came back after a second and stood before Denmark waiting for him to get up.

They blinked at each other.

There was something in Denmark's eye and he scratched it. Unhurriedly he got up and took a deep breath. "What are we going to do now? I'm not sleepy."

"Going to work a bit, then walk Compass."

"Seriously?"

That's exactly how it happened. While Sweden was doing all the work there was nothing Denmark would rather do than play video games. Sweden came back just in time before the store closed. The guards were ready to kick Denmark before Sweden came and explained the situation. Then they played more games together until somewhere past midnight.

Denmark picked a bed not far away from Sweden's. Sadly he couldn't find a bed more pompous than Sweden's, though the aquarium above Denmark's head almost compensated the lack of a beautifully carved headboard that Sweden's bed had.

Sweden lay in his pajamas and laptop on top of his stomach. Denmark was already slowly drifting into dreamland by watching the fish soundlessly speak fish words and stare with such dull eyes.

Out of nowhere came an unknown voice. "Good night guys."

Denmark jumped up in bed from surprise.

Sweden replied to that voice. "G'd night, Ben."

From the other side of the cardboard wall between the two bedroom sets Denmark yelled, "Berwald! Who is that?"

"Guard."

"Oh..." Denmark calmed and sunk back in bed. Soon the guard was walking past him. Denmark pointed at him. "You're not going to creepily watch me sleep, are you?"

The guard just laughed and passed by.

Once he was out of sight, silence once more filled the void of sound. Only the banging of the keyboard was heard nearby. Soon there was that melody the computer made when it usually was turned off. There was a clap of the lid of the laptop. The only small light that was from the laptop faded away.

It was completely dark.

Denmark was starting to feel uneasy. Not from the darkness, silence or even the big empty space above him.

"Berwald! It's kinda chilly in here!"

"Hm. Get a blanket from the nearest bed."

"Aw... Can you get it for me?"

"Pff. No."

"Please. I'm too tired and all snuggled up here. Help a brother out."

Sweden's lack of action was the negative reply.

"Going to freeze to death here..." Denmark whined and reached out for his backpack near his bed. He took out his pills and was about to swallow, but almost choked on it when he suddenly saw a dark figure hovering over him. Denmark spat his pill in Sweden's face.

Swallowing spit, Denmark mumbled. "I-ye... Didn't hear you approach."

Sweden didn't bother whipping the spit off of his face until he was done putting the extra blanket on Denmark.

Sweden was frowning more than usual because of the loss of his glasses. With his slanted eyes he gazed upon Denmark's broken leg, then he looked up to see the little pill jar his brother was holding. "How many do you take during the day?"

"Only before bed. To sleep well."

"It hurts?"

"Not really."

Sweden leaned down a bit and snatched the small jar out of Denmark's hands. Sweden twirled it in his fingers and frowned even more. He was making a face equivalent of a goblin. "These are no-"

Unexpectedly Denmark grabbed Sweden by the shirt and tackled him on the bed beside himself. Sweden tried to break lose and get up, but Denmark was pinning him down hard with his own body weight.

Their nose tips almost touched.

Denmark was staring him down in the eye."You will not tell anyone of this."

Sweden let out a big breath of defeat from his lungs and relaxed his muscles under Denmark's weight. "Don't you know antidepr'ssants double the risk of bone fracture? Tell me. How long have you been taking them?"

Denmark just blinked as if he didn't get what Sweden just asked.

Sweden sighed. "Or maybe I should ask how much?"

Denmark's chest started shaking against Sweden's in a growing laughter. For a split moment he hid his face in Sweden's shirt, which he was still clutching on. Looking from under the brows at Sweden, eyes glistening, Denmark whispered. "Enough to get me through a day with you..."


	10. Visit Back

_Ring!_

It took awhile for the door to open for Denmark. He wasn't exactly sure it would open at all. Not because maybe Norway wasn't at home, but because Norway would just not open it.

Only after two minutes, the door was opened.

Norway went out onto his porch with nothing on but his jeans and a towel on his head.

A few water droplets were crawling down his neck.

Hope found it's way into Denmark's heart that Norway wasn't hesitant to open the door to Denmark, rather he was just a bit slow because he ran out of a shower. A smile started playing on his lips.

"Nor, I..." Denmark leaned in for a hug.

"Forget it." Norway turned around and headed back into his house. "Come in."

Denmark didn't know whether to call Norway's forgiving nature a miracle or be prepared for a nasty booby trap. With utmost caution he entered the house. He briefly scanned the insides of his brother's residence. His eyes were hard to open today because he had to get up really early in the morning as to not miss the next train to Oslo and that's why he didn't catch sight of which room Norway has headed. He assumed Norway was in the living room, but there, instead of Norway, he found a girl in a sweater that barely covered her naked thighs.

She also had a towel over her head like Norway and was drying her hair, that's why she didn't notice Denmark's big male eyes staring at her. When she finally felt his presence she looked up into his eyes with the most piercing way possible. "Oh, hey. Didn't know Olav had visitors."

"Hah. Yeah. I'm his big brother, if you need to know... You know, just checking on the little siblings." Denmark explained awkwardly.

"I'm Marika." She got up to shake his hand, but after looking somewhere past Denmark's shoulder slowly pulled her hand out of Denmark's reach.

Norway placed his cold hand on Denmark's neck from behind. That made Denmark shiver. He didn't notice Norway creep up behind him.

"Marika. I think you should go now."

She nodded in agreement and walked past the two men out of the room, winking at Denmark on her way out. "Was nice knowing you, Olav's brother."

"It's Mathias, babe."

Denmark received a weak, but loud slap on the neck by Norway, which made a Denmark spit out the breath he was holding.

"Mathias, 'babe', would you like to sit down?" Norway asked in a teasing, but cold way of his.

"Well actually-"

"Sit."

"Got it."

Denmark sat obediently and Norway left him there in favour of helping his girlfriend get dressed and find her purse. A few moments later, she left and Norway came back to the living room with a khaki hoodie on.

"Woo-hoo! What a hot thing. She new?" Denmark exclaimed in amusement, nearly jumping off the couch

"No. I've known her over a month."

"So she's staying here often?"

Norway cupped his own cheek. "Mathias. We're not going to talk about love."

"Right. We're going to talk about my fucked up relationship with Sweden instead. Yeah. I'm such a dick. I don't let him be selfish. That makes me the selfish one! But I'm actually sorry for that if you believe me."

Norway started rubbing his face in his palms. "No. Denmark. Nevermind. I said things I shouldn't have. You can be selfish all you want; it's in your nature."

"I'm not getting you."

Norway slumped down beside Denmark. "I'm not mad at you. I'm more mad at myself. It's just I'm selfish too; when I need to get drunk and whine I go to Sweden."

Denmark opened his mouth ever so slightly; not enough to see his teeth.

"He listens to me. In the morning I wake up and feel like a pig and it's alright with him. You know, I just really wished someone could to the same for him. But no, he doesn't want to hang his problems on other people."

Norway pointed his finger at Denmark obviously accusing him of not being able to do such a favour for Sweden. Denmark chuckled.

Norway continued. "It's his damn pride. Always pretending he can take anything on. He can deal with it on his own. Heh. The funny thing is, I think he can."

"Don't worry. A few new porn movies, a bag of candy and he's in top form. Hehe!"

"Tch!" Norway gave Denmark a whack on the head.

"Ai! Why?" Denmark covered his precious melon with his hands.

Everything seemed to be back in place: Norway playfully beating the shit out of Denmark for making poor jokes. Norway had his job during the day and in the evening he gathered some of his friends and went to the swimming pool in the city. Denmark thought it was probably Norway's poor attempt to ditch him, but the lack of a fully functional limb didn't stop Denmark from tagging along with them and having a fine time in the pool.

Denmark bought himself an inflatable mattress and found himself a semi-quiet spot in the pool where the old people were slowly swimming by. Until Norway's friends came that is. Then everything turned loud and round. Denmark really wanted to join the swimming fun, but the most he got to do is splash water at them with his hands.

"Hey! Stop that! Or do you want to go for a swim tough guy?" One of Norway's friends threatened him.

The thought of getting his leg wet didn't appeal to Denmark so he quit trying to feel as a part of the group. He decided just to lay back in his mattress and relax, putting one hand into the water.

"Mathias, we're going to the sauna then home, you care to join?" Marika asked caringly.

"No, no I'll just float here a little bit more."

"Suit yourself."

From the large windows Denmark could see that outside it was getting dark and the swimming pool was getting awfully quiet as the people started leaving it. No more children screaming on the slides.

He looked at the big clock on one of the walls and mentally noted when he will get out of water.

Denmark closed his eyes. It was Denmark's alone time and he was getting cold. He was cold from the lack of movement and the cool water beneath him.

He didn't mind. He needed a cool mind anyway to sort the rushing thoughts in his head.

There were lots of things on his mind. Norway and Sweden were the main attractions.

He didn't voice this question yet, but what really worried him at the moment was - why? Why Sweden and not him? Before, he thought it was he that Norway shared his secrets with and emptied a few bottles, but reality hit Denmark's face in the mud again.

Sure, Sweden was always closer, even geographically. Norway probably visited Sweden more often than Denmark. The thought that maybe Norway trusted Sweden more wouldn't let go of Denmark's breath.

In the morning, after the hangover, Norway would probably be awoken by Sweden whipping Norway's hair out of his face - what a repulsive thought to Denmark.

Denmark, when he needed to get drunk, he'd go to Germany. Not that he would meet up with the guy in person, it's just his booze was cheaper.

Sweden on the other hand. What did that guy do?

It's not like Denmark didn't try to warm up to Sweden, it's just the warmer he got, the colder Sweden got, as to not let him inside. It's better to stay the way they are; hostile friends. Denmark was not about to knife it out what Sweden had to hide in his heart. A heavy pearl if you need a metaphor.

Pearls are not all that beautiful. They're little pieces of sand that wound the organs of the mollusk, so the mollusks coat it in the mother of pearl so that it won't hurt. Sand like memories, can be smoothed out and shaped. But they're still there; heavy and unneeded.

Sweden's heart was like an oyster. It had a shell over it. If you take it out of water the muscles will contract and close the shell so that nothing could get to the soft parts.

Denmark fell into the water. The first three seconds he didn't even know it and didn't react in any way. He just let himself sink down and fill his mouth with water.

His muscles reacted and started pushing him out of the water. Once on the surface, he started coughing feverishly. "Ch-Cheeky bastard!"

Norway was lounging on Denmark's mattress. "You were asleep."

"Well no shit! People sleep don't they. Especially if I had a rough waking this morning."

He needed sleep like nothing at the moment and he got plenty of it by spending a week at Norway's. A whole week of peace. Denmark was recovering just fine. He was able to drive Norway's red car a couple of times and his leg seemed quite fine with it. It was about time for Denmark to get his own car out of some shady parking lot Sweden left it at Gothenburg.

His car - that's what really brought Denmark to these northern parts.

Upon phoning Sweden, asking about the address again, he was informed that Sweden was actually in the city at the moment. "Whatcha doing there? Some sort of business?"

"Ya. I'm h're to sell an ol' house."

"An old house? Hey, I didn't knew you had a place to stay here too. Can I check it out sometime later?"

"Hn. Not unless ya goin' to buy it."

"What!? You afraid I'm going to scare off the clients? C'mon! I'll show up early in the morning. Want to see the shaсk where you used to creep."

"Alright. Don't be late."

"I won't. Bye."

As Denmark promised, on an early morning he took a train to Gothenburg from Oslo. He had spare time to actually to get his car himself. He should have rather spend that time on snacks, because Sweden seemed to be in a lot of hurry to show him the house and be done.

Hunger usually make men grumpy and Denmark was no exception. The road to the house outside the city was long. Sitting in his car, Denmark started remembering the last time he got to ride in it. He had his red sweater at the time and it would really come in handy right now. Also the thought of a coffee machine in the car was still an appealing idea.

When they finally got to the spot, the house didn't seem to inspire anything in Denmark. It was big, but grey and somewhat in the middle of nowhere. It stood high like a church compared to the other houses nearby in the forest area.

"Creepy place to spend winter." Denmark commented matter of factly.

Once Denmark got inside his mood changed for the better. Inside it was different. It was cozy, with a big fireplace, a staircase with an ornamental design and some animal skin rug in the corner.

"Woo-hoo" Denmark started spinning in place trying to take into view everything that was in this house. "This is amazing. And you're planning to sell this?! You're nuts."

"Old. Built it in the eighties."

"You built this? No, this is rich. Oh come on, this place just needs a renovation and it's perfect for holding parties. H-how about we spend Christmas this year in here! All we need is a moose head and this will have a perfect Christmas-lumberjacky spirit!"

"Hn. Finl'nd 'ready planned at his place."

"Oh screw it! He gets to host Christmas way too often. How about the New Year's? 'kay. It will be great. Denmark stepped closer to Sweden and placed one hand on his shoulder, his crutch under his armpit and looked him in the eyes. "Don't sell this house. Don't sell this house you hear. Also I noticed a hippodrome nearby when we were going this way. You love horses, right? How about we go horse riding on New Year's as well, huh?"

"Hn." Sweden lowered his head and smiled slightly.

"What else do we have here?" Denmark went up the stairs to see the other multiple rooms.

"They're all bedrooms. Heh. What did you build this house for anyway? Hey, Sweden, hey?"

Sweden didn't reply, but followed his brother from room to room.

"About eight or so people could live here. No seriously, Sweden, what for did ye built this?"

Sweden didn't look Denmark in the eyes. He rubbed his neck and with some kind of shame clouding above him, he started leaving the room they were in.

"Sweden. Why did you built this?" This time Denmark asked more persistently.

Sweden was already walking down the stairs, when Denmark left the room to ask his question again. He leaned on the indoor balcony of the second floor and shouted the question again at Sweden. "Hey! Sweden! Sve! Why did you built it?! Huh! Why?! Answer me."

Sweden didn't turn to look back. "Just want to s'll the damn house..."

Denmark, with sad eyes, watched Sweden leave the building, probably waiting for Denmark to do the same.

Denmark whispered to himself. "Arrogant bastard... You're not the head of this family." Yet Denmark couldn't help but to smile at the fact that he got to peek into such sentimental dreams of Sweden; living all together like a real family.


	11. Some Sweater

A/N: Thank you Vevici for beta-reading this story!

* * *

><p><em>Pop!<em>

Off came the cork of a champagne bottle. A loud cheer accompanied the sizzling of the liquid dripping out of the bottle.

Everybody gathered around Denmark for him to pour them a glass.

Yes. Once again it was Christmas Eve. There was the smell of cookies in the air, bright decorations everywhere and gifts under the small fake Christmas tree. Well, usually the Nordics preferred a natural tall one to grace their party, but the fake one would have to do for now.

This was a very unusual Christmas after all. They were celebrating it on board of a private jet that Denmark took the liberty of renting for them to fly to a skiing resort up north of Finland. This was a very generous way to treat his friends this year and at the same time it was quite fair considering that Finland took all of the camping expenses on himself.

Even after a half an hour of flight Norway was still staring at Denmark while rubbing his temple and questioning him."Mathias. Tell me again, to whom have you sold your soul to organize this?"

"Huh?" Denmark breathed out in surprise at the question. "Rather ask who got their soul back by getting even with me!" Denmark knocked on the door of the pilot cabin that he was standing next to and then opened it to check on the pilots.

The first pilot was dressed in a Santa Claus costume; the second younger pilot was dressed as an elf. Even with the ridiculousness of how they looked they maintained professionalism and didn't pay much attention to Denmark in favor flying the plane straight.

"What exactly did this guy owe you?" Norway asked looking up at Denmark.

"Oh, back in the days when I was an animator I met this guy." Denmark pointed at the first pilot. "He was drowning in his pilot training debts and I kinda had spare cash..." Denmark's voice trailed off. He looked up at the ceiling as to avoid Norway's gaze and started blinking nervously.

"So that's why you gifted us toothbrushes that one Christmas." Norway muttered.

"Dawww~! Come on, it doesn't matter now. Anyway, Christmas is about giving." Denmark patted Norway on the back. "Ain't that right Satana-oi?! I meant Santa!"

"Whatever you say." The pilot replied apathetically.

Denmark came up to the first pilot and patted him on the shoulder like an old friend. "Hey! Sants! Why don't you come in and join the party? We were just about to pass around the gifts."

"What are you saying?" The man replied in surprise. "I don't want people to get their morning paper with the title 'Drunk Santa crashed a plane'."

"Oh! Hey Olav! Come closer." Denmark noticed his brother curiously peeking from behind his shoulder. "You haven't drank yet, have you?"

"No, Matt-" Norway protested.

"Then it's settled! Olav will take your place! won't you Ole?!" Denmark winked at the man behind him.

The Santa pilot let out a horse laugh. "You can't be serious, Mathias."

"I'm telling you! I trust him more with my life than I trust... Well, you, for example." He pointed at the man.

Norway cleared his throat. "Actually I'm a well certified pilot, sir." He reached for his fat leather wallet in his back pocket and took out a plastic card to show the man. "Nevermind my young age I'm quite experienced."

Santa took a quick glance at the document then wide eyed he stared at both of Denmark and Norway. "Oh... What the heck. I trust your judging Mathias. Be what you want it to be."

"Thanks." Denmark flashed a wide smile filled with big straight teeth.

Santa switched to autopilot and emptied his seat for Norway. "There you go." He showed them with hand gesture. Carefully, he pushed himself out of the cabin and into the party.

Once Norway was seated in Santa's place, for a moment he just floated his hands above the controls and took in one sweet breath. At first his hands were shyly scattering above the equipment; the next second he was again flying this thing confidentially.

Denmark stood behind Norway with his hands on the chair and just following Norway's every move with his eyes.

After about seven minutes the elf pilot finally spoke up. "Excuse me, um Olav." The elf pilot got Norway's attention. "Where did you study piloting." He was looking in amazement at the young man.

"Life taught me." The pilot gave Norway a confused look. "Family business. Transporting people, flying things. It's a long story."

"Erm... Okay? You don't mind if I leave you for a moment? Got to take a leak."

"Sure."

"Just keep flying this thing straight."

As soon as the pilot left the cabin, Denmark's arms snaked up to hug Norway's neck and placed his head on Norway's left shoulder. "Nooor~... You alright?"

Norway didn't reply.

"You sure? Don't you have something to say to me?"

Norway suddenly turned his head and blew sharply into Denmark's ear.

"Ai!" Denmark jumped away from the pilot seat. "Nooor~! You know, that hurt." Denmark whined as he cupped his poor ear.

"Stop distracting me."

That exact moment someone shouted from the salon. "Mathias! Get back in! Were gonna exchange gifts now."

"Go." Norway commanded.

"Aw, alright." Before he left, Denmark planted a kiss on his little brother's soft cheek. Norway smirked at that.

Denmark came back into the saloon waving his hands. "Hey! Did anyone miss me?"

Finland passed him a glass of champagne. "Guys, let's start with Denmark's gifts. It's only fair." He proposed.

There were no protests. Everybody nodded in agreement.

"Aw, thanks Tino! You know, the best gift would be if I'd actually haven't broken that leg back then and went fishing with you and the girls."

"Um. Actually there was only one woman that agreed to go with us."

"Huh? What do you mean? What about Alice and her sassy friend?" Denmark's smile suddenly faded whilst Finland's only grew wider at the amusement.

"... You mean Elis and Sass? Ed's friends?"

"Aw, come on! NO! Don't tell me those are dudes! Are you serious? I misheard that back then on the phone?"

Finland's eyes filled with tears; he couldn't contain his laughter. "YOU thought?! Oh god, this is rich!" Finland's knees went weak and he crouched gripping his own stomach. "Were you drunk?"

"Fuck you man and your weird ass Finnish names! I didn't know this would be a sausage fest!"

In between fits of laughter Finland managed to squeak out some words. "Estonian names, actually!"

"Fuck you man!" Denmark couldn't help, but to join in with Finland and laugh at his own silly misunderstanding.

Finland would probably never live this down. But that didn't matter. At least Denmark didn't regret missing that fishing trip anymore. All was for the best.

Finland cleared his throat. "M-hm. Okay. Santa Claus. If you'd be so kind to pass Mathias' first gift."

Santa took the first gift that was in the pile under the small fir-tree and read out the tag that was attached to it. "The first one is from Olav."

"I'm in luck!" Denmark sat back in one of the white leather chairs. The gift was thrown at him, he caught it and started unwrapping the box. "Huh?"

"What's it?" Sweden asked apathetically with his arms crossed.

"It's toilet paper." Denmark held the gift up for everyone to see. It was plain white toilet paper.

Everybody went silent.

"Awkward gift." Finland commented.

"I know Norway has a weird sense of humour, but this is ridiculous and kinda cruel..." Denmark pouted.

Iceland politely covered his mouth and chuckled.

"Oh, so you think it's funny?" Denmark threw the toilet paper at Iceland's head, but missed. It barely brushed past his hair.

Iceland picked it up while Denmark started reading the card that was attached to the box. "Nah-nah-nah... Merry Christmas. Three months supply by mail?!" Denmark looked at Sweden in confusion as if he knew the meaning of this.

Sweden shrugged. Denmark tilted his head and blinked in reply.

He continued reading in search of more substantial information. "Wait!" Denmark stretched out his hand dramatically at Iceland who was half way done decorating the Christmas tree with the toilet paper.

"Turn off the lights! Turn off all of the lights!" He shouted in a crazy frenzy.

"What? Why?" Finland asked already leaning towards the switch.

"Just do it!"

Finland and Sweden turned off the nearest switches to them and in the darkness the toilet paper glowed a neon colour.

"Whoa! Egill, good idea! Let's decorate everything in here with this!" Denmark grabbed another roll that was remaining in the box, rolled out a big strip and threw it in a random direction.

Just then the second pilot came out of the toilet room and the paper fell onto his face. "What the...?"

Everyone burst out laughing. Even Sweden smiled at this. It was all just so amusing.

"Oh! By the way!" Denmark exclaimed. "Elf-guy, tell Olav that I dig his gift! Hehe!"

The pilot just looked at them like they were all morons, shook his head and entered the pilot cabin.

"Hey! Sants. Is he usually that gloomy|?" Denmark asked pointing his thumb at the cabin door behind him.

"Yeah, quite often."

Suddenly the plane radio was turned on and there they heard Norway's voice. "Attention, this is captain Olav speaking. We are now flying over the middle of nowhere and yeah... You're welcome Mathias."

The Santa pilot seemed unamused at this. "I think your friend is getting a bit too comfortable in that seat. About time I replace him."

"Give him another chance!" Denmark yelled, slumping back in the soft chair, but Santa Claus was already in the cabin shoving Norway out.

Norway, who was looking emotionally unaffected by his retirement slumped into a nearby chair and took a glass from the table next to it. "Turn on the lights. I want to see the rest of Mathias' gifts."

"Yeah! Like he said." Denmark supported that thought.

Before they clicked the lights on Sweden was already throwing another gift into Denmark's lap. "Fr'm me."

Denmark took the gift and started carefully inspecting it. It was a black bag decorated in snowflakes. He weighed in his arms and shook it to evoke any possible sound from it. "Well it's light and soft. Don't tell me those are exploding paper towels or something."

"It's not."

"Okay then. I give up. I'll just have to see." From the depths of the black bag Denmark was greeted by red knitted cloth. He took it out and unwrapped it with one blow against the air.

It was a sweater.

Denmark was speechless for a moment. He looked as if he saw a ghost; his eyes were opened wide and his jaw was hanging.

"No way! You cheapskate!" He roared after the primary shock passed.

Norway got up to get a get a better glimpse at the thing. "Wait. Ain't that..."

"Exactly! It's the sweater that I wore on the day I broke my leg! Berwald just knitted the hole up?"

The place where the hole used to be was carefully covered by a pleated Christmas heart. More like the half of it, because the red part was the exact shade of red as the sweater. It probably took Sweden a huge amount of time and patience to find the perfect hue.

Denmark ran his fingers over the heart. Even the heart's thread quality was the same as the sweater's.

"Ya like it?" Sweden asked not pulling his fist from his lips and looking at the floor.

"Well it's a tad bit childish, but I love it! I can't help to wonder at what point you snatched it from me?"

"Ya left it in my car."

"Oooh! Right." Denmark exclaimed at remembering when he had body temperature swings and he threw it in the back of Sweden's car. This sweater had a nasty history to it, but hopefully now it will remind him of the good times he spent with his family on Christmas.

Denmark pulled on the sweater, took the collar in his hands and sniffed it. "Did you hand-wash it as well? No. Don't answer that. I'm sure you're capable of it anyway."

Cause let's be honest here; Sweden was a perfectionist.

The Nordics agreed that on Christmas they wouldn't gift each other anything too fancy; expensive gifts would be left for birthdays. Usually on Christmas they compensated the lack of gifts by traveling off to somewhere. This year they were flying to skiing resort near Ylläs fell ifar up north of Finland, Lapland.

They arrived quite late at night at Kittilä airport, the closest city to Ylläs fell. How they got to the skiing village was a total blackout. Gradually Denmark remembered that they were driven there, but the question was; by whom? Most of them were drunk and tired and went straight to bed once they arrived to the big cottage they rented for the family.

The only ones who had any juices left in them were Norway and Finland.

Finland was probably feeling energetic because he was the first one to pass out and had a good sleep until their arrival to the village. Or maybe he just felt like he needed to do something active to get rid off the cramp he probably had in his neck. He didn't exactly fall asleep in the most comfortable of poses.

Norway just drank less than anyone that day and wasn't exactly feeling like a melting snowman.

One way or another, those two were feeling extraordinarily hyper, and once they were let out of the car and onto the fresh snow, like savage yetis they started a snow fight. It was a long going little rivalry between them.

As far as Denmark could tell, this all started as an argument about to whom the northern lights belonged. Of course they had to fight about it.

Denmark couldn't sleep for about an hour because of the screams of those two drunkards out there. But the real cause of Denmark's insomnia was Iceland sticking out the window and shouting the most threatening thing heard from him yet.

"Shut it! Or do I have to come out there and shove my icicle up your asses to cool you down?!"

"Hehe! You tell 'em Ice!" Denmark shouted in support from under his pillow.

That stupid threat lead to even stupider jokes and images in Denmark's head. To be exact, he imagined Iceland having an icicle and two snowballs instead of genitals. "Heh! Balls."


	12. Faceless People

The next day, Denmark woke up very late from a knock on the door of his room. He groaned and slowly opened his glued eyes. He raised his head and rested it on his hand in a semi-lying position then voiced for his waker to come in. "Yeah?"

Carefully his door was opened by a round-faced woman with two braids. Not expecting a female to enter Denmark hurriedly rearranged his blanket to cover his bare legs.

"You awake?" It was polite of her to ask even if the answer was obvious.

"Yeah. Who are you?" Denmark frowned.

"Ah, I'm Finland's sister. Karelia. I'm the one who drove the five of you last night here."

"Finland has a sister? Huh. Actually I think I remember him mentioning you." Denmark sat up and started rubbing his neck. "Wait. You live with Russia, right?"

"Yes, he let me visit my little brother for Christmas. I mean Russia celebrates it in January anyway and it's still not as nearly as important as New Year."

Denmark frowned in disbelief, though he mostly frowned cause his head was hurting. "What do you mean New Year is more important? What about the presents?"

"We get them on New Year usually. Nevermind, you're a world apart from us. It's from the Soviet times when atheism was propagandized."

"I see. Pass Russia my greetings when you get back." Denmark found his pants near his bed and started putting them on underneath the blanket. "So...? Is everybody already up? Or you just thought I'm hot that's why you woke me up first?" Denmark gave her a cheesy smile.

"Hehe! Actually, everybody left three hours ago, we're the only ones left."

"WHAT?!" Denmark jumped up like a spring. "They just left me! Why didn't they wake me up?"

Denmark was already running out of the room past Karelia and down the staircase.

"They didn't want to wake you!" Karelia reasoned hurriedly following Denmark. "You seemed sleeping so tight and they thought you wouldn't go skiing anyway because of your leg."

"Hah! I'm not even in a cast anymore, why would they..." Denmark felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over him. He leaned on the nearby wall for support and covered his mouth as not to puke on the floor. "Ugh. I don't feel so good."

Karelia placed her hand on his arm. "Don't hurry. Take a shower and then some pills maybe. You'll catch up with them later."

Denmark shook his head a 'yes' but didn't look back at her or say anything.

"I made pies. You can clean yourself up and visit me downstairs for breakfast."

He did just that.

Denmark had to admit that Finland's sister, whom he practically didn't know existed, turned out to be one of the sweetest people he met.

Denmark was even glad he slept in.

"Karelia, what's your human name?" He asked while adding extra jam on a pastry.

"Uljaana."

"Uljaana?" Denmark mumbled while taking a big bite of the pastry and washing it down with milk.

"Uljaana. You can call me Ulja for short."

"Nah, I'd rather call you Jaana. Does Finland have any other siblings I don't know of?"

Karelia placed her index finger on her chin and pondered for a moment. "Well we also have an older brother called Veps and then there's our cousins Mari, Erzya, Moksha and..."

"Okay, enough information?" Denmark motioned with his hand for Karelia to stop and slurped on his warm milk.

After breakfast - a very satisfying breakfast, Karelia and Denmark locked their cottages and went to rent their skis.

"You sure your leg is okay?" She asked, concerned.

"Trust me." He replied.

Though, Denmark should have not been so self-confident. His first go was a disaster with him ending up on his butt and his ski sticks somewhere far behind stuck in the snowy hill. "Damn it!"

Denmark wasn't particularly good at skiing. He wasn't good at winter sports in general to begin with. Like mountain climbing and snowboarding. Well that was because Denmark's land was as flat as a pancake and didn't have mountains or hills to practice these sports in. Denmark got less snow in winter than the other Nordics as well.

Again, it sank in Denmark's mind that he was not one of them. He was different.

Denmark sat like an idiot in the snow thinking how to get up and get his sticks back, not that Denmark was helpless to the point he couldn't even do that. Any other day it would be a piece of pie. Karelian pie maybe.

He shouldn't have stood on the skis today. Not yet. His leg was still in no condition to take on such pressure, but unfortunately he only understood that after it started hurting this bad again.

"Here." A little kid on skis appeared above Denmark and was handing him the ski sticks.

"Uh, thanks." Denmark took the sticks, but didn't take much action besides that.

Meanwhile the kid was staring at him creepily through his goggles. Then he carefully stepped closer towards Denmark as to not accidentally slide down. "Ya know, when ya ski you should bend you-"

"I don't need your advice kid. I know the theory." Denmark barked.

That answer made the boy furrow his brows. "See ya later, uncle Matt." Then the kid went fast down the slope covering everybody with snow from under his skis along the way.

It took Denmark a minute to realize that he just interacted with Åland Islands himself. "Shiiieee... I hope I didn't make myself an enemy in my nephew's eyes."

Somehow Denmark managed to reach the bottom of the hill. One part of him was telling him not to give up and try again. The other part, and that part being his leg, was telling him to stop. His leg's voice won when he saw Åland sitting outside the nearest cafe drinking some hot drink. Denmark took off his skis and limping a bit, walked up to his nephew.

"Hey there little guy! Whatchye doing here alone?" Denmark cheerfully waved at him trying to start this meeting over again from a more positive perspective.

"My name is Jonas." Åland replied grumpily not looking up at Denmark and took another sip of his cocoa.

Denmark ignored the cold demeanor the boy was giving him. "Jonas, right. Isn't Tino or Berwald supposed to be around here somewhere, cherishing you with their parental love?"

The kid gave him a scary glare that reminded Denmark of someone. "Dad took up uncle Ole's skiing challenge and I don't know where Tino is."

"I see." Denmark sat near the boy on the bench and threw his skis at their feet.

"Did Uljaana stay at the cottage?" The boy asked.

"No. She came with me, but I think I've lost her." Denmark replied scratching his temple.

"Hm..." Åland sighed finishing his drink.

They were just awkwardly sitting there and watched skiers pass by. The sky was perfectly clear today. The sun was making the snow even more blindingly white than it should have been. The air was so cold, Denmark felt everything inside of his nose was frozen. He had to get moving soon or he himself would turn into an icicle.

"Uncle. How did ya break your leg?" Suddenly, the boy asked.

Why is everyone so interested in the leg? Denmark thought he left the incident in the past for good. "I fell from a bike."

"Well that's stupid. Dad told me ya ride it all the time."

"Which dad?"

"Berwald of course. He told me ya don't imagine life without a bike. How did you manage to break it then?"

"Well maybe I felt like breaking it." Denmark said acrimoniously. "Why don't you call Tino a 'dad' as well?"

"Cause he's not my dad! A-and it's childish to break a leg because you wanted to."

"Childish? How old are you anyway!?" Denmark retorted with saliva spitting threw his teeth.

"I'm seven!" Åland looked away and his cheeks turned pinker than they used to be. "...Six."

"Heh! You've grown." Denmark said, comparing Åland to the last memory he had of him. He had to admit that back then he'd never believe that this child would survive past four nation years and now he was here as part of the family.

"So! You say ye don't like Tino."

"Hmm... He doesn't like me." Åland murmured looking down.

"How so?"

"He always calls me Ber's kid and..." Åland switched to a whisper. "He and some Belgian lady from the EU took my snus away."

"Hah! You take snus?" Denmark shouted in astonishment. He swore that he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the thought of a little kid like Åland getting addicted to nicotine.

"No, but my people do. Anyway, the Belgian lady was totally bullying Tino that he should do something about me. I tried defending myself, but she told me she talked only to full grown nations and then-"

"You stared her down."

"How did you know?"

"Just figured. This habit runs in the family. So did it work?"

"No... Still, I think I scared her bad."

"Good job." Denmark ruffled the boy's hat. "Berwald would probably be proud. Guess it's just Sweden and Norway where snus is legal to sell."

The thought of that there was something else that only Sweden and Norway shared hit a nerve. At least Denmark knew that Norway still preferred cigarettes better.

"Mhm... Ya know. I think dad doesn't notice me most of the time." The boy looked down sadly and kicked his own feet.

"Oh, come on. Don't be blue. Sure he does. He just doesn't want to make Tino feel like he's stealing his parental duties, haha!"

"Yeah. Like the time when it was decided whenever I live with him or with Tino. He almost didn't interfere. Like he didn't care."

Denmark pondered for a moment on how to reply to that depressing statement. "Hm. Then what makes you think Berwald would be a better dad than Tino?"

"I love him. It doesn't matter if he wouldn't be a better dad. I'm his son."

Denmark went silent. He turned his gaze away from Åland, chuckled and started to rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. You know. I used to think like that too. That even a bad dad is still... My dad. But dads aren't always good people or know what's best for you, even if you love them." Denmark said smiling bitterly while his memories took him to place where he used to have a father as well.

Åland was staring at him wide eyed. Denmark didn't like that reaction filled with some kind of understanding and curiosity.

"Anywho! Are you going to sit here all day or are you going to go up skiing again?!' Denmark quickly changed the topic and regained his cheerful demeanor.

"Well..." Åland shook his shoulders. "...then you're going to stay here, aren't you?"

"Ah, well yeah, my leg is pretty strained." Denmark leaned down to rub his leg and grunted slightly while doing so.

"I'll feel bad if I leave you here." Åland mumbled and quickly turned away.

"Aw! Little nephew is being considerate!" Denmark affectionately messed up the hat on the boy's head.

"Hands off!" Åland pulled his hat down on his ears to prevent it from falling off.

"Haha! How cute!"

Just a few seconds later Denmark and his nephew were showered in snow that Iceland was throwing out of his hood.

"Hey! What gives! Did Olav teach you manners again!" Denmark whined shaking the snowflakes out of his hair.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there." Iceland banged his board lightly against the ground so that the excess snow would fall off.

Denmark snorted. "Yeah right."

Iceland was followed by a small bespectacled girl with her own miniature snowboard. Denmark presumed she was Svalbard.

"Hey there!" Denmark cheerfully waved at her.

She blinked, pulled a strained smile and answered coldly. "Hello."

"She ain't talkative much just like your brother." Denmark turned to Iceland.

Iceland pouted, but mustered a witty reply. "No, but you should watch her go down the hill. Maybe you'll learn something."

"Oi! Peace on you too, Egill!"

"Heh, now why did you go out in the first place. You still use a cane, don't you? Balancing your weight is still stressing, right?."

"Smarty pants. Now what would you tell me to do all day then?"

Denmark didn't expect Iceland to actually have a reply to this. A reasonable one at least.

"You... Could go rent a dog sled." Iceland slowly answered gazing off to the left at who knows what.

"Really? They have this around here?" Denmark's eyes started shining and his smile grew wider with every second.

"Yeah." Iceland shook his shoulders. He noticed that Åland was also looking at him hungrily. "You guys go to the husky farm and I'll just tell everybody if you go missing. By the way, you better hurry. The bus to the farm doesn't go there like every five minutes."

"Alright! Hey, does the little girlie want to go too?" Denmark tried being considered and maybe get to know Norway's kid too.

Svalbard replied for herself. "No, I rather go drink coke with ice-cream, and it's Emma."

"Nice to meet you-"

"What are you waiting for!" Åland was already pulling on the man's arm. "Let's go!" Åland persisted by pushing Denmark hard on the back.

Hurriedly they bid farewell to Iceland and Svalbard and then returned the skis they were renting.

Denmark and Åland Islands quickly found their way to the tourist info centre and they were quickly guided to the bus stop. The only thing Denmark regretted is not thinking of this before Iceland. It was really a good idea to rent a sled with pretty huskies harnessed into it.

Åland was a bit too excited though. He practically petted every single dog before getting on the sled itself. This dog loving trait was definitely something he got from Sweden. It was a family thing. Even a more distant relatives, like Germany, were crazy about dogs.

Sure, Denmark also liked dogs and nothing cheered him up more than the happy barks that he was greeted by, but what really pleased him at the moment was finally getting into the sled and covering his sore leg with woolen blankets. He didn't care about the whole mushing thing anymore and placed it in the hands of Åland once the instructor showed them the basics of driving the sled.

During the first twenty minutes Åland fell of a couple of times, but it only encouraged him to master the art of controlling the dog sled. He stood back up behind Denmark on the sled and, wiping the snow of his face, loudly yelled. "Mush!"

Soon they were going fast; really fast. The snow was hitting Denmark in the face, getting stuck in his eyelashes and then it instantly melted. Denmark was laughing with Åland, interrupting one another, but at the same time it was synchronized with the barking of the dogs.

After a few hours they took a break at the few log houses, which were the route station. They decided that the weather was good enough to set the fire outside. They baked potatoes and salmon on open fire and were offered hot drinks by the crew. A lot of people gathered around Åland's persona although he gave them all mistrusting glares. Denmark suspected that it wasn't only because Åland was young and cute...No.

It was a completely different phenomena.

Denmark has seen it before. It's like when he and Sweden would go pubbing. Sweden would always attract more girls around himself because of that cold-cold shy look he gave everyone, not knowing that he's not all that innocent inside. Sweden never had to move a finger.

People get attracted to those who don't notice them.

Maybe that's why Denmark was so obsessed with being with his family. Cause they were so good at forgetting him at times.

Denmark was the type of person that feeds from people's gloominess. He gets hyperactive. He suddenly feels like it is his duty to lighten up the mood in the room. But, of course, there's the other side of the coin; When he saw that everyone was merry without him it dragged him down.

But what made him truly frustrated was Sweden, because Denmark could never tell what kinda mood the man was in or what was on his mind.


	13. Seeking Sorrow

They didn't come back too late. Just in time for dinner actually. Everybody had a quick snack at the cottage, then took showers and changed their clothes to something more fancy because they were eating out tonight in a nearby restaurant.

No one was in a hurry when eating and when everybody else waited for someone else to finish they accidentally would find new interesting things on the menu to order, so the meal never ended. During the times they weren't chewing they would revise the most ridiculous downfalls of the day; like when Iceland tried drinking hot chocolate while snowboarding to impress some girl, but ended up burning his nose and trampling a few skiers along the way of rolling continuously down the slope . It was nearing midnight when Svalbard finished her last ice-cream portion and Norway stopped taunting Sweden for losing to him in the skiing challenge.

Strangely, most of them were still up for at least another adventure before bedtime. When they returned to their cottage and already started brushing their teeth, a grand idea suddenly hit Finland's brain. "Let's go hide and seek!"

His idea was laughed at, but not quite ridiculed. After five minutes everybody was again, in their winter coats. The only one that stayed inside was Svalbard cause she overate and needed to lie down. In no time she was also complaining of being sleepy.

"Maybe Åland should stay indoors too." Norway proposed. "I don't want to search for him half the night if he gets lost."

"Hey!" Åland protested.

"Also quite late." Sweden supported the thought.

Åland was giving them a look of disbelieve and terror. "Are you kidding me! You're gonna play a kids game without any actual kids."

Everyone looked at each other and upon confirming Ålands words, laughed.

Finland still had a few tears in his eyes when he said. "You've got a point, but you will still stay."

"Plus..." Denmark cut in the conversation. "Any game after midnight is an adult game."

Åland pulled out his tongue at Denmark. "Traitor."

"Okay, then..." Denmark said trying to limp away into the forest. "I'll just go hi-"

"Not so fast." Norway stopped him by the grabbing his hood. "You will also stay."

"Come again." Denmark blinked. He was oblivious to what Norway meant by that.

"I don't want you wandering off too far and then I'll have to carry your sorry ass back because your leg hurts."

"Huh? No! I won't go far." Denmark panicked at being denied of the game.

"Then we'll find you fast and you get sent home anyway. Plus you're also a big child."

"This is not fair! Completely unfair." Denmark winced trying to free himself of Norway's grip.

"That's what I was trying to tell you." Åland whined.

Denmark felt ditched. Once again ditched. Though he had Åland and the little ice-cream eating beauty that was sound asleep upstairs. But the little guy seemed to prefer the company of his nintendo.

After about twenty minutes of watching the TV, Denmark had an epiphany. He stood up from the couch so dramatically Åland almost fell off the couch from the impact.

"What's wrong?" The boy asked.

Denmark wordlessly grabbed his cane and went straight to the front door. "Lock from the inside." He grabbed his winter coat and jumped straight into the blizzard.

Damn them all if they tricked him into babysitting while they were in some pub drinking. Those bastards!

Walking for about five minutes towards shopping centres and restaurants Denmark started questioning himself if he wasn't just imagining things. "Hey! Olav! Tino!" He hoped for a reply from the woods around him. Curious faces started peaking out of the windows of other logged houses nearby. Denmark decided it would be better if he would just continue going.

After seven more minutes of walking Denmark finally reached the centre and decided to check at least one random bar. Thought he didn't expect finding anyone familiar there, because halfway he realized that he was being brash; acting out on one little thought.

Denmark walked in the shadiest looking bar he could lay his eyes on. It smelled of no other than alcohol. Glasses were ringing with the wholehearted laughter of drunk men and a few chicken-like squeaks from the ladies.

Even if there was someone he knew in here it would be almost impossible to spot them in this dark place. The only source of bright light was the bar.

Deciding that since he's here he might actually buy himself a drink or two. Twelve minutes was a pretty damn long walk for his leg.

Knocking on the floor with his cane Denmark came up to the bar counter. "Whiskey."

He sat on one of the tall chairs and hanged his cane on one of the slats of the chair. Funny; the chair was the same shade of brown as his cane.

Denmark was about to take his first sip when someone stopped him by uttering his name.

"Fancy meeting you here, Mathias."

He turned his head to see a brunette woman sitting next to him. He didn't notice her there before because of the shadowed area she choose to sit in.

Denmark shook his head at her and gave a confused look. "Excuse me. Have we met?"

She looked at him disappointingly from her long bangs. "Not necessarily. But I heard lots of you..."

She took a sip of her own drink. Furrowed her brows and waved Denmark away. "Nevermind."

She was probably the most saddest drinker in this bar Denmark could find on the second day after Christmas.

He moved his chair closer to hers by little jumps, not standing up. He was trying to get a closer look at her to try and remember where he might have seen her. She lowered her head under his awkward gaze.

No. He never saw her before, but some gut feeling gave Denmark the right answer. "Ye-you're Lapp..."

"Don't call me that." She hissed.

"But you are, aren't-"

"You may call me... Nevermind, it's Varva."

"Varva. So, what are you doing in here of all places on Christmas?"

"I may ask you the same thing."

"I? Heh. Hn..." Denmark got to his own drink and then just sadly starred in the glass with the liquid that reflected the greenish light of the bar. "We're having a game of hide and seek. I'm hiding."

"Oh. Looks like you're good at disappearing." She said in a sarcastic tone and rolled her eyes.

"Nah. I don't even try. What about you, don't you have someone to spend this eve with? I mean Tino probably invited you to spend time with him."

"He didn't. We haven't been in contact for a while... Not like he would appreciate having me around anyway. Better I just disappear from his life."

"Does he even know where you are right now?"

"No. Why would he care?"

"Well, I don't know, maybe because you are a part of his, Norway's and Sweden's family."

"Family? Heh!" She snorted. "No, I'm not their family... They're not mine. I used to have one though. A family of my own brothers and sisters."

"Wait. There's more of you?"

"There are eleven different Sami languages if you didn't know. Of course you didn't." She lowered her head.

Denmark concluded that today he learned of nations that he wasn't aware of. His brother's kids, Karelia and her siblings and now this. All of these forgotten people.

Shame. He felt so very ashamed that all this time he thought that he was the one neglected.

Denmark batted an eyelash and turned to the bartender. "Refill."

He emptied his drink in one go and then turned to the woman again. "Where are your siblings then?"

"Gone. They're dead. I'm not sure... Maybe some of them still cling on to the little people they have left. The last one I saw was Lule, but she hasn't called me for so long. I'm afraid she's gone too."

Denmark sighed deeply. "You know. I used to have two more siblings. But they're dead now as well. All because we didn't take care of them. We didn't really care and now they're gone."

Northern Sami's eyes glittered for the first time that evening. "You forgot your own siblings..."

"Funny. The oldest and the youngest of us. Norse Greenland and Gotland." He whispered.

"Mathias, you should go. They probably completely lost you by now."

"What about you?"

"No. I'll stay here."

Denmark got up and paid for himself. He put his hand on Northern Sami's arm. "Come one. Let's go together."

"No."

"Oh, come on. It won't be bad."

She twisted her arm from underneath his hand. "Go. They need you more than me."

Denmark slowly pulled his hand away from her and glanced at the entrance. He gasped as he saw Sweden standing there half covered in snow and his hands in his pockets. Beyond the droplet covered glasses were eyes that were fixed on Denmark.

With unsure steps Denmark approached him not breaking their eye contact. Standing really close, Denmark gulped, glanced at the floor and looked shyly back up. His brother was mercilessly burning him down with his glare.

Just when Denmark was about to say something he received an unexpected slap on the neck from Sweden. Then Sweden took his time to look Sami's way. Her eyes went wide like a deer's caught in headlight. Sweden's expression on the other hand was unreadable as usual.

"Let's go." Sweden ordered and waited for Denmark to go out first.

They were silent for about a two hundred meters of walking back to the cottage. Then Sweden finally spoke up. "Your leg hurts?"

"Geez, how did you guess? Is it because I limp?"

"Where's your cane then."

"I forgot it at home." Denmark lied.

Not asking further questions Sweden hooked his arm under Denmark's shoulders for support.

They probably passed some more two hundred meters stuck on each other like this in full silence. Denmark was looking at the sky the whole way. Sure, he has seen the northern lights before though only on pictures, but for some reason he was more enchanted by the clarity of the sky and the limitless amount of stars he saw at once. That's something he rarely saw at his home because of the light pollution.

He was too drunk yesterday to notice this intense beauty of the sky. Sami was one lucky girl if she lived this far up north all year long.

"Hm. Sve. Did you find everyone? You were the seeker, right?"

"Except Finland. He always wins."

"Yeah, he has some mad ninja skills doesn't he?" Denmark took a big breath and shouted with everything his vocal cords had. "TINOOO~! Come out wherever you are! Berwald gives up!"

"Shush!" Sweden scolded.

Neither of them expected that Denmark's scream would be heard. Somewhere nearby they heard a loud thud as if someone landed on the snow from one of the trees. A dark laughing figure approached them from the woods.

Practically at the same time as the figure appeared or a few seconds later Denmark and Sweden heard a yell coming from the way the ski village was at. "Mathias!"

It was Northern Sami trying to gain up on them.

"Didn't expect me to be round guys?" Finland came up to them and patted Sweden on the shoulder, but they weren't paying much attention to him in favour of staring wide eyed at the woman that was running towards them.

"I think you lost something." Sami said standing only five meters away and presenting Denmark his cane.

Finland's and Sami's eyes met.

Her grasp on the cane loosened a bit and so did her jaw drop slightly. "H-Hey... Long time no see."

"Long time no see? Sami. Where have you been?" Finland almost squeaked the words out.

Denmark and Sweden stood there not daring to move or interfere.

"What's it to you?" She barked back.

"I was worried about you."

"Never have been before, why now?" She said looking sideways and blinking rapidly.

Finland covered his mouth and looked down. His cheeks getting redder than ones that could just out of cold. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

"Sorry for what?" She kept on taunting him.

"Sorry that I made you think that way. Because it's not true. I care. We all care."

"You do?" She said looking down and taking a few steps back.

Finland on the other hand shortened the distance between them until they were less than a meter apart. "Of course we do. You're a part of us." He put his hand on her shoulder.

She was still looking down. He lowered his head even more and tilted it sideways trying to get a glimpse of her eyes. "Part of my, Norway's and Sweden's family. Sami. Stop with all of the questions that lead nowhere."

"What do you mean lead nowhere?" She said shattering a single tear. "I hear a few things from you for the very first time today. Have you really been missing me?"

He crouched because of their height difference and pulled her into a hug, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "We all have. Lule called. She was trying to reach you for a while now."

Her eyes widened, a howl escaped her throat and she broke down crying into Finland's shoulder. That's when she finally dropped Denmark's cane on the snow.

Meanwhile Sweden and Denmark were still standing in place clinging onto each other. They watched Finland comfort Sami as she let her emotions show.

A small bitter smile crept onto Denmark's lips. Hopefully everything will be alright now.

"Denmark." Sweden's voice ringed through the cold atmosphere.

"Hm." Denmark looked up with a questioning look. Hearing his name was weird at the moment. He didn't expect Sweden to have anything to say to him right now.

Sweden's expression was softer than usual. He just watched Denmark for a second, but then said something in a tone like he meant it. "Thank you."


	14. Fragile Lives

"Cheers!"

Denmark touched beer cans with one of Sweden's guests'. Disappointingly, the aluminium cans did not make any clinking sounds like the glasses from which he drank on Christmas.

Truly fascinating was Denmark's ability to act familiar with everybody, despite meeting these people for the first time, with the exception of Hans and Marika. Marika was getting improperly friendly with Hans if she was supposed to be still seeing Norway. Denmark was not exactly sure if they were still together.

While the party was going on downstairs in the living room Norway was presumably lying unconscious in one of the numerous rooms upstairs, cradling his vodka bottle. Said he needed some rest after he hit his head on a tree when he was participating in the midnight dash through the nearby forest. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Denmark didn't know because he was sitting this one out back at Sweden's big lumberjack house.

He and his brothers didn't get to go horse riding like Denmark was hoping to do on New Year's Eve because the activity wasn't really fitting for a large group of people. People Denmark didn't care for and yet, there he was hosting the party while Sweden was out buying extra supplies of aspirin or something.

There was roughly seven humans in the room and three more outside. All of them had red noses and cheeks that might have been caused either from the alcohol or the cold or laughing or some of those factors combined.

The Swedish national anthem started playing on the TV. Some people in the room started singing along. Denmark felt nostalgic, imagining how he would be singing his own anthem if he were at home right now.

"Come on! Sing along Mathias." Denmark was elbowed by Marika who was sitting on the couch next to him.

"Ah, no. I'd feel kinda weird singing your hymn guys. I'm Danish, remember?"

"Danish? What's that has to do with not wanting to sing?! Oh come on... You won't even have to say Sverige once in this song."

It wasn't nice not to reply to a lady's plea, so Denmark decided to murmur the melody. He didn't remember the lyrics, but listened to the people around him and didn't believe his ears. The hymn really didn't have anything to do with Sweden, instead it was a song about the Nordic in general.

Everything was so simple and clear to him in the moment. At once he remembered what this house was built for.

Sweden still dreamed of them being a real family. At first Denmark thought Sweden wanted it out of pride. He thought as if Sweden felt like the big brother to all of them just because he had more land and he wanted to be in charge. Everything pointed at that, even his egocentric sign in the Stockholm airport that said: "Welcome to the capital of Scandinavia."

Sweden was not like that. Denmark realised Sweden wanted them to live together because he cared. He just never had the courage to say that outloud.

Like, silently rooting for Norway to win the snow fight against Finland, while Norway loudly supports anyone who was Sweden's opponent. That's how both Norway and Denmark acted towards Sweden, like little bratty brothers. Victory didn't matter to them, but Sweden's defeat did. They didn't want to be proud of Sweden or at least didn't want to show it so as not to stroke his ego. Sweden, on the other hand, always wanted to be proud of them when they were faced with hardships.

Some of the guests that were still in the yard were firing their third row of fireworks. The loud booming sound brought Denmark back to reality. Everybody was shouting happily and toasting their drinks again. Denmark emptied his drink and enjoyed the light show through the window. It was bright and amazing, or so it seemed to him in his slightly drunken state.

Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound at top of the roof and few screams at the sudden shattering of the walls followed. People started actively chattering among one another. Someone joked that Norway probably just fell of his bed.

"Can you smell that?" Marika asked.

"Yeah it stinks." Denmark raised his armpit and smelled it.

"No, I mean..." The woman looked out the window and Denmark followed her eyes. A face of pure horror looked backed at them. A man was banging on the window, frantically motioning his hands trying to show something and was screaming words that Denmark recognized only the third time he had heard them. "The house is on fire!"

In no time a big black smoke cloud leaked down from the stairs and was filling the living room. "Everybody out!"

Everyone merged into a screaming running mess. The ones that were more intoxicated than the others couldn't stay on their feet and fell on each other. Denmark grabbed a nearby girl and tried helping her get out as quick and as safely as possible.

Running wasn't quite the best choice for Denmark's leg, but he didn't feel it at the moment; the adrenaline that spread through the body numbed it.

"Norway!" In this salad of shades of panic, trying to help the closest person, Denmark completely forgot all about his dearest brother. He wasted no time and turned back, smashing through the bodies of the people that were trying to get out. He was being grabbed and shook by some saying that he should come with them, but he persistently tore threw them to get to the stairs that led to the second floor. Once he got to them, that's when his leg betrayed him by starting to hurt from the pressure of applying too much of]his body weight on his recently broken leg.

"Augh!" Denmark grabbed onto the railing and pushed himself up protesting the pain. "Norway!" Between coughing fits, Denmark called out to his brother. "Norway! Can you hear me!" The longer the sentences that Denmark uttered the more time he had to spend on bending over to cough.

His eyes started tearing up from the smoke. Upstairs it was already all covered in a thick cloud and with the corner of his eye he saw the flames leaking through the ceiling.

Denmark reached the second floor and in a half bent position tried running towards the room where Norway lay sleeping.

When he entered the room and saw Norway laying there on the bed, for a moment Denmark felt at peace. He has found him. He was so tired and his head was going round either from the smoke or from the alcohol. Denmark fell on his knees besides the bed and lay his head on his brother's head. Cheek to cheek.

A single tear fell from his right eye and landed in Norway's ear.

Denmark felt Norway's eyelashes tickle his skin. Denmark quickly raised his head and Norway sat up in his bed. Not quite understanding what was going on, he looked stupidly at Denmark and blinked.

Denmark heard the burning wood cracking from up above. The fire was getting closer to them. "Nor! We have to get out of here!"

As if the flame has already bitten Norway, he jumped up from bed and grabbed unto Denmark. They ran towards the stairs, but with each step they were slowing down to a limp. You can't tell who was dragging who. Both of them were feeling slightly fucked up at the moment.

"Den! Come on!" Norway shouted, fearing that Denmark's strength was abandoning him.

They reached the stairs.

It took Denmark a split second to realize that the ceiling above them was going to fall, so he threw Norway down the stairs to safety and jumped back, just before a large portion of the roof collapsed where they were standing and cut off the stairs.

Norway may have broken a bone or two, but through the flames Denmark saw that he was downstairs and relatively safe. All he needed now was to crawl to the exit.

"DENMAAARK!"

The fire quickly spread to the inner balcony. It wouldn't be too long until it would also start to collapse. Denmark ran into a random room that wasn't yet taken by the flames. He hoped to find a spare exit somewhere in this house.

There was none. A monstrous fear was attacking his heart. Only one thought ran through his head. "This is how die."

Death by fire. Unless the smoke that was pulling the life out of him with every breath gets him first. Denmark fell to the floor coughing in search of oxygen. His head did not comprehend the situation any longer.

Soon, he felt his consciousness fading. His head felt hot and hollow. He could only hear the inside of it, but not that was happening around him. He was listening to the rapid beating of his own heart and nothing more.

Unexpectedly, like a lightning without thunder, a big hand grabbed Denmark by the shoulder and rolled him over. The figure standing above him was grunting and coughing more intimidatingly than usual. Though the tears blurred Denmark's vision, he identified the man. "Sve..."

Before Denmark even had time to hypothesize how Sweden reached upstairs, he was being picked up rather roughly and draped on Sweden's back. Denmark instantly clutched onto the familiar body and buried his face in it.

Jumping in place, Sweden readjusted Denmark on his back. With that the shaking didn't stop. As if Sweden's legs were thinking ahead of him, they threw themselves from one place to another searching for an exit.

There was no safe exit. Everything was on fire.

The only real option Sweden had was the small window at the end of the room. He leaped towards it like it was the only remaining life jacket on a sinking ship.

A treacherous floorboard broke underneath his right foot making him fall and almost hit his forehead on the windowsill in front of him.

While Sweden struggled to get his foot out of the hole and regain balance, Denmark's grip was loosening on his Sweden's jacket. "De-Denma-don't die on me h're!"

With one hand Sweden was struggling to open the window, with the other he was trying to keep Denmark from falling off. As the window was opened it didn't get any cooler in the room, on the contrary, the pure winter air fueled the fire even more.

Sweden stuck his head out of the opened window and made the huge mistake of breathing like he would receive fresh air in return. Denmark's body was shaken by Sweden who was feverishly coughing, trying to get rid of the toxic fumes that filled his lungs. There was no end to the black stream that flowed out the window filling the whole frame.

It happened faster than Denmark could understand Sweden's intention. Sweden placed his left foot on the edge of the outdoor windowsill. With his second step he lost the balance and Denmark's weight on his back made him naturally fall over forward. There was no time for Sweden to regain balance by holding onto the window frame. His hands were already occupied with Denmark and by gripping him even tighter Sweden made it clear that he would not let go.

Sweden's body topped with Denmark's fell to the ground with a dull thud.


	15. Silence

The white light that penetrated the clouds blurred Denmark's vision as he exited the hospital. He was terribly surprised to find Norway outside of the building in front of the parking lot sitting on a bench, holding his own wallet and looking at it.

"If you're looking for fresh air then go back and put on your oxygen mask." Norway said without even glancing at Denmark.

Denmark opened his mouth to say something, but after a second slowly closed it back and felt the aftertaste of his own vomit. Silently, he sat beside his brother. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed that Norway was holding an old black and white photograph above his wallet. Denmark immediately recognize the the three young men in fancy suits depicted on it.

"Olav, didn't we agree to burn old photos of ourselves?"

"This one." Norway frowned. "I couldn't. Remember? First time we ever made a photo. With the three of us. I asked Berwald that day to smile for the camera, which he did."

Denmark leaned in to take a closer look. "We look almost perfect here. Happy. We're all smiling here."

Norway looked down and found a still burning cigarette under the bench. He picked it up with the burning end started twisting and turning it against Denmark's face in the photo.

"Wha-what are you doing?!" Denmark yelped in surprise.

Norway looked him in the eyes and barked back. "Why do you always have to smile? I never asked you to, neither of us did."

"I-I'm not gonna act like I don't understand what you are talking about. I'm not going to lie to myself either. It's not easy being like this..." Denmark looked lost and played his own hands like he didn't know what to do with them.

"Easy? Easy is for you to always ignore my insults and plaster a smile. That's what easy is. Avoiding conflicts."

It was getting harder for Denmark talk without his voice breaking. "Hey. I thought this would be better for you. I did not want to burden you with my problems. I thought you needed me to be the crutch… Not the opposite."

Norway put his elbows on his knees and looked up grimly at Denmark. "Denmark. Right now. Berwald. Is up there... Dying." Norway pointed at the hospital behind him while still holding the cigarette and without breaking eye contact. "I never needed for you to be patient with me. To act like nothing can hurt you. He's the one who needs you now. Not me."

Norway took a deep breath and dropped the cigarette on the wet asphalt. "Please go. I don't need another hero that can't save himself."

If there was something left in Denmark's throat to say then he swallowed it. Bitter. It was all bitter to him.

Slowly he started walking away from the parking lot. Fast enough to not get yelled at by Norway to go away, but in no hurry to go inside the hospital, because nothing good awaited him there.

"You know..." Norway didn't speak up quietly.

Denmark turned his head around to see Norway with his back to him.

The air was colder than ever. Denmark had a feeling he would not like what he was about to hear because the pause grew longer and longer.

"I used to be terrified of Berwald like the rest. I was so scared that I couldn't look him in the eye... But you know what father said...?"

"What did he say?" Denmark had a feeling he would regret asking.

"Well he said that I shouldn't be afraid of him. That I should rather be afraid of you. Because no good will come from a man who smiles like he means it."

"That's all?" Denmark whispered.

"That's all." Norway replied calmly.

Denmark looked at the ground and sniffled. He gave Norway a nervous smile and walked off.

He entered the hospital only to stand in the middle of the reception as if he didn't know where to go. But he did. He knew exactly where Sweden lay. Second floor. East wing. Sixth room on the left.

He didn't want to be there, but his feet didn't listen and managed to drag him towards the lift. Only one floor it seems, but it felt like forever. The lift door opened, but the bell never rang. Maybe it was broken. Everything was silent. There was no one on this floor. As he walked towards the room he heard his own heels echo in the hallway.

It was terrible.

His steps slowed down and eventually stopped, thought he did not yet reach the room. For about thirty seconds Denmark stood there blinking, while inside of him everything was on fire. He couldn't face this. He turned back and headed to the nearest bathroom.

"H-Hurray..." He exclaimed with a broken voice. He was looking shittier than ever. His eyes dark as if he painted them for Halloween. They stinged with every blink. He tried smiling with the corners of his mouth, but in result just broke down crying.

He turned on the cold water and tried cooling his red swollen face. There was no real use of it. It didn't stop the pathetic whimpers from escaping his chest.

Looking in the mirror he couldn't find the beautiful young man that used to be there. What he found was just himself.

"Guess it's just you and me, huh?"

Denmark seemingly calmed. Thought, after every three seconds he gave away a hiccup.

He washed his face some more, greedily drank water from his own hands and ran his cold fingers through his own hair. The collar of his shirt was all wet.

He looked up at his reflection once more to see if the colour of his face returned to its usual tint. Only just a bit. He noticed that some strands of hair were black and damaged. Not that his hair wasn't a mess long before the fire. It was far longer than Denmark liked it.

Denmark reached to the back pocket of his jeans and took out his keychain. In the midst of many keys for different purposes and small toys he found his little clasp knife. He took it out. Denmark studied it for a second. He shook his shoulders and started cutting his hair. The knife wasn't very sharp, so it was more like Denmark was tearing his hair against it.

It came out messy and uneven. Though Denmark wasn't exactly at a beauty saloon to complain. In the end he still ended up looking fresher. He smiled and didn't fail to make it look genuine. At the moment he felt alienated from his own body. His face didn't reflect what he was feeling inside.

Denmark didn't clean up the hair after himself, because he didn't care. He didn't remember how he finally reached Sweden's room. Everything was in a haze. He stood at the door, looking at Sweden, but at the same time trying not to see anything. The heartbeat machine was beeping with a steady rhythm.

The nurse in the room took notice of Denmark. "Mathias, right?"

"Yeah." He spoke hoarsely.

In this kind of moment a nurse is supposed tell about the current condition of a patient, but she didn't. Instead she paused, pursed her lips and looked down. "It's nice of you to visit."

The nurse let Denmark have her wooden chair. "He shouldn't be alone right now."

Denmark sat on the chair near Sweden's bed. The first time he had a real good look at him. Sweden was covered in burns and had a big vinous bruise on the right side of his face. His eyebrows and eyelashes were burned down.

"Should I leave?"

"Mhm."

"He can hear you, but try not to tire him. Call if you need anything." The nurse disappeared behind the door.

Anything? There was nothing. Nothing that could improve Sweden's state. The only thing that could happen was him dying. There was no use denying it. Sweden was dying.

The summary of injuries he received from jumping out the window of the burning house wasn't compatible with life. Sweden's body was mutilated inside and outside. He broke too many bones, had a concussion, plus the burns he received while climbing up the metal ladder to reach the room where Denmark lay choking. Probably burned his lungs as well while breathing the hot air that formed in the living room.

There were things Sweden still needed to hear from Denmark, but his tongue just wouldn't twist to say them out loud.

Denmark looked at Sweden's hand that was lying near his hip. It was curled into a fist. He wanted to touch it; take it into his hand and hold it tight. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

Sweden let out a grunt.

Denmark's heart skipped a beat. "What am I thinking? Nations don't die."

He reached out to touch Sweden's hand.

He didn't make it.

The machine stopped beeping and let out a long cry just before he could touch him.


	16. Hurray

_Drip. Drop. Drop._

It was raining outside. Clouds so thick, if you could reach them you could cut them like butter, covered the sky.

Compass was looking out the big window and whimpering mournfully. Denmark patted the dog that was sitting next to him on the floor. "Miss him?"

The dog continued whining and winching in place. He was bothered by the storm. Denmark tightened his grip on the leash.

"Yeah, I miss him too."

They were alone in Denmark's half empty apartment. The white walls seemed whiter than ever. Especially in those parts where the furniture was moved and left big rectangular blocks of perfect clean white.

Somewhere in the distance there was thunder. Denmark petted the dog some more to calm him down. Compass looked at him with his big sad dog eyes and started licking his hand.

"It's alright. You'll be taken to the shelter. Probably find a new family… If we won't come back for you in time."

The dog licked Denmark's face sympathetically.

Soon the shelter worker arrived and took Compass away. Standing outside, watching the truck drive off, Denmark noticed that the sky was clearing. Denmark returned to his flat.

"Hurray. One problem off my shoulders." He said sarcastically. He was all alone now in his mute and white apartment.

Denmark stepped into his bathroom. The light was flickering. Denmark was by the sink. He gathered cold water in his palms and threw it at his own face. He had a long night ahead of him. He needed to freshen up.

Denmark looked up at himself in the mirror. It was the same as before. He still got it. His drooping eyes, wild eyebrows and a big mouth that could smile like there's no tomorrow. Like every day was his last. But for a being like him forever existed. He couldn't predict his last day.

He decided to shave and while doing so accidentally cut himself. "Ow. Now this is great."

This little cut sure did not help to keep up a good mood that Denmark clutched unto with what little positive thinking he had.

It became pitch dark in the bathroom. The light bulb in the bathroom has finally burned out completely. "Damn."

It stopped raining.

Denmark found himself a band aid for his face. Then started gathering whatever small boxes he had left in his flat with his personal belongings and loaded them in his car. He was making sure he got everything. Leaving even one item that could tell something about his identity would be unwise.

While checking out the shelf under the sink in the kitchen Denmark found an old wine bottle. He didn't remember on what occasion or why it was gifted to him, but he definitely remembered that it was a collectors value and basically ancient. Opening it would be a sin.

Or so Denmark used to think.

Without second thoughts Denmark opened it and took a sip. "Woo, it really is old. Nice. Tastes like piss."

Denmark emptied the bottle into the sink and put the bottle in one of the boxes, mentally nothing to throw it away on the way out. "Now it has no worth."

Little by little he taught himself how to let go of things once more.

He closed the door of the apartment for the very last time. Denmark was going down in this lift and he was never going to visit this place ever again. He didn't even say goodbye to Misses Seterholm. He would just disappear from his old life and from the lives of people that used to know Mathias Køhler.

Before leaving Copenhagen he refueled his car. It was only eight o'clock. Denmark was ahead of his schedule. "Aw, yis."

Passing the toll booth Denmark turned on the radio and tried to find a tune that fit his mood. Nothing fit, but still for some reason he hummed to every one of them. The sun was setting, making the beams fall in an uncomfortable angle at Denmark's eyes.

Everything was against him it seems. He couldn't take it anymore and reached into his glovebox to find his antidepressants. What annoyed him even more was that the little jar was empty. He threw it angrily in some corner of his car.

Denmark started loudly and neurotically singing a random pop song on the radio. He pushed the paddle harder making the motor roar and he roared with it. The car headed faster forward on the relatively empty road.

He felt an echo of pain in his leg. He slowly started decreasing his speed, but kept on singing the song on the radio. "Hurray! Oh-oh~! Oh man, I hate that song!"

Denmark spent the night on the road. He made a few stops at stations to have a some coffee, to look at the sky and think. Eventually he got to Stockholm. There he met up with Norway. They chit-chatted for a while, exchanged stuff then separated ways.

It's been somewhere over a month, maybe around forty days to be exact, since Denmark has last been here..

The snow under Denmark's feet cracked as he approached the grave of someone dear. It was a cold February's morning. It was still quite dark, but the sky was clear. Denmark had his hands buried in his pockets. His neck low and buried in his collar. He could see his own breath.

"Hey. It's been a while. I know how it must be cold for you right now, so I brought this." Denmark had a thick woolen blanket with him that he unwrapped to show to nobody alive.

"Not that it would change anything. You're dead. You know, it probably all wouldn't happen if I haven't broken my leg in the first place." Denmark lowered his head and looked at the melted snow in front of the tombstone.

"I would have probably saved Norway then in time before everything started falling apart. Then you wouldn't have to go and get me."

It was perfectly silent at the cemetery. Denmark was alone.

"And for what cause did I brake my leg. Just to get everybody's attention. Heck! If I'd knew, I'd rather have you ignore me for the rest of my life than this... It's all my fault; it always is. Sorry Norway couldn't come. He's just outside town burning our old documents."

The birds started to sing.

"When you were dying there at the hospital. I wished for you to wake up and ask me of something. Anything. Anything I could get to make it all better. Maybe some flowers, maybe." Denmark glanced at the neighbouring graves that had bouquets on them.

"Why do the dead get the most flowers? It's not fair. They can't smell anyway. Pathetic way to soften our guilt..."

Denmark took a closer step to Sweden's grave and sat on his knees near it. He touched the ground. It was warm.

"You know. I should have said something to you in the hospital. I should have said something to you then. Now, it's all-"

Suddenly, a hand emerged from the grave and grabbed Denmark by the collar. At first Denmark gasped in shock, but then mechanically grabbed the hand and pulled it to himself. "Got ye bro! Hold tight. We'll get you out."

"Shoulda brought a shovel inst'd of whining near my gr've." With a push and some effort Sweden was raised from the soil. He was all covered in dirt and had a revolting odor on him.

Denmark didn't care.

Once Sweden regained his balance, Denmark pulled him into a tight hug. "Great to have you back."

Sweden just patted Denmark on the back in return and gently pushed him away. Denmark just stood there looking at him and Sweden was looking at his own hand. He spat out old teeth with fillings into his palm.

Denmark unfolded the woolen blanket and threw it over Sweden's broad shoulders. "Come on, come on. We got to get going now."

As they were heading towards the gates to exit the cemetery, Denmark picked up a bouquet of white roses from a random grave and shoved it into Sweden's face. "For you. Happy birthday."

"Get out." Sweden growled and aggressively pushed the bouquet making Denmark drop it in the snow.

Nobody noticed them leave. It was far too early for even the sleepless old women to be visiting the cemetery. It was far too early for someone to believe their own eyes if they saw Sweden rise from the dead.

Reaching Denmark's car, Sweden opened the trunk, peeled off the clothes from his upper body and threw them over his shoulder into the car. He sat on the bumper and pulled off his trousers right there in the cold. The inside of the trousers was covered in dead skin that made them stick to his legs.

Denmark scrunched his nose at this gross sight. "Get a move on."

Sweden grabbed the clean trousers that Denmark had in his trunk and quickly pulled them on. The rest of his new clothing, like the socks and sneakers, he took to the front seat with him.

It was a quiet ride. Denmark was driving and Sweden looked almost vulnerable covered with the blanket. His eyes were deader than ever staring far into the distance that couldn't be seen because of the blizzard outside the car.

Shivers ran up Denmark's spine. He saw goosebumps on his wrist. "Kinda chilly here." He turned on the heat in the car.

Sweden slowly reached his shoulder with his hand and started scratching it, sinking his outgrown fingernails hard into the skin. After a while he was holding a large piece of his own skin in his hand. It was no ordinary skin. It was black and seemed to form a pattern of sort.

"Tattoo?" Denmark guessed.

Sweden just shook his head a yes.

"What was it?"

"Nothin' special. Lost a bet."

"The boy with the bunny tattoo much? Haha..." It wasn't a good joke, but Denmark felt as if had to make even the weakest attempt at a conversation.

No tattoos, no scars. They were all gone. Only the ones that were connected with an emotional trauma were still there.

Denmark couldn't help but to wonder what twisted dreams of mother earth Sweden saw this time when he was lying dead in her embrace.

Sweden threw the light piece of skin in the back of the car. It floated away somewhere.

"Mhm. Say, Sweden. How's your eyesight?"

"Same." Some wounds Mother Earth leaves to remind something.

Denmark opened the glove box for Sweden and pointed to a box for eyeglasses. "See if they fit."

Sweden took the glasses out of the box and tried them on. "Fit."

"Sweden, you heard before of the thing going on the internet?"

"What thing?"

"Oh. Nevermind. We'll talk later about this later."

"See."

"Sweden."

"Hm."

"Have you seen anything while you were there."

"Mhm. Father."

Denmark felt something explode in his chest and for a moment there his hands weakened on the wheel. He looked at Sweden, seeing if he was serious. Sweden didn't share a glance with him. He just stared out the windscreen.

With his eyes back on the road, Denmark asked with a shaky voice."Did he say anything?"

"Said he was proud."

"Of you?"

"Of me."

Denmark rolled his eyes and hit the wheel with one hand. "Great!"

He pushed hard on the paddle making the car head forward fast. Sweden fell back into his seat. "Denmark!"

"I hate this! I hate this about you Sve! Why do you think you're so perfect?! You could have died! Nations far greater than you disappeared all of a sudden. Why did you have to come and save me?"

Sweden didn't say anything. He just looked away as always.

"Right. Say it. You thought I had less chances of living than you did. Trying to be a tough guy, but you're not." Denmark wheezed out a breath. He leaned down on the wheel and stared into the distance with his blue-blue eyes.

"You can't replace dad." Denmark said with his hoarse and silent voice.

"W's never my intention. Just… Th'ght I could be a better brother." Sweden leaned his head on the window glass.

"Heh." Denmark shook his head and smiled. A tear forming in the corner of his eyes. "You were always like him, without even trying. Where do I turn on this next fork, anyway?"

"Right."

Denmark turned right.

"I'm s'rry if I remind ya of h'm. Is he still h'nting ya?"

"Of course he is, cause I killed him!"

Something unspoken, but that which both him and Sweden knew. The only secret the two of them shared.

Denmark bit down his lip hard. He started frantically throwing his head into different directions until he could bear no longer the question caged behind his lips. "Do you hate me for that?"

"No." Sweden scratched his forehead and let the white dead skin cells float in the air like the snow outside. One of his feet was on the seat so that his leg pressed close to his chest.

"Sve. Maybe we should pull over and swap? I don't know these parts well."

Sweden placed his hand gently on Denmark's hand that was stirring the wheel. "Have you forgiven yerself?"

Denmark looked away from the road and into Sweden's eyes. Denmark was not sure if he could forgive himself, but he could definitely not forget while there was Sweden to look back at him. He was looking at him as if he could read his thoughts. "I don't hate ya. I'm not avoiding ya. I'm 'fraid of reminding ya too oft'n."

Denmark gulped down some spit and felt his hand unconsciously let go of the wheel.


	17. Idjits

Norway walked through the hospital door and right to the reception. He was getting really sick and tired of visiting hospitals by now. "I'm looking for two guys that got into a car accident." He asked the receptionist.

She didn't say anything, but just pointed behind him. He looked back and saw two pathetic and sleepy looking figures sitting in chairs with one empty seat between them.

"Thank you." He quickly glanced back at the receptionist and slowly approached his brothers.

He stood in front of them without saying a word. Just inspecting them. Denmark's nostrils were covered in dried blood. Sweden's left leg was in a fresh cast. Both of them were looking guiltily at the floor. Only Denmark was brave enough to look at Norway with his puppy eyes. He looked like a kid that peed his pants, but was too embarrassed to admit it. He casted his gaze at the floor again.

Norway sat in between them. He stretched his arms behind his brothers' back, took their heads in his hands and pulled their heads close to his, touching their cheeks with his. Norway sighed loudly. All three brothers were looking ahead, but at nothing in particular.

"Idjits…" Norway whispered aggressively.

That's when Denmark lost it and started cackling like a wicked old witch. It wasn't long till Sweden's face also cracked and he tilted his head back to laugh.

Norway smiled a confused smile and shook them gently by the shoulders. "Pff! Idjits."

He figured it was either from the drugs or his brothers have truly gone insane this time.

"Guess breaking legs runs in the family! Watch out Olav! You're next!" Denmark spat.

That was not funny. That was not one bit funny to Norway. "I wonder if the Finno-Ugric guys will adopt me."

* * *

><p>The End<p>

A/N: A huge thank you to Vevici for beta-reading my story to the end!

On a side note, my headcanon tells me that on a typical day Norway would smash his older brothers' heads together for their stupidity :


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